Away in darkness, truest north With skies like brass, the cold comes forth ‘Neath streams of light in colors bold Sub-zero straits of burning cold. ‘Tis then the quiet doth proceed Flowing o’er, to others bleed Silent voices, whispered life Yield to silent cutting knife.
‘Tis then, it’s said, when one’s alone To think of self and wrongs atone. Fear of death and universe Aware of limit, aware of curse. Pathetic man: eternal space Suppresses him, puts in his place Imprisoned essence. The body trods If ever, then, alone with God.
An ancient castle, intertwining Ivy leaves, its vines divining The tale of the stones decrying the lives gone far away. The turret steeples overshadow Pungent silence in the water The pine trees are sighing for the lovers gone astray.
See upon the chapel floor A waiting vault without its door Inviting ghosts in from before; the grass grows in the bay Fluttering, the phantom banner Moved dancing leaves about the manor And spirits in the wind will scatter entangling along the way.
She loved another, and though he sent The love he felt for hope’s advent He never knew of whom she meant, Before she left adoring gent. Though he loved and when she went It can be said without dissent The love he felt for her was spent And fated for a fast descent.
See without, the weedy grounds A jungle growing here abounds Hear wildlife in all its sounds echoing the better days The sun, resigned, is looking down Impassive on the world he found Cold as ever on the downs, as love that has gone a-fey.
The grasses of the plains can grow Until the mem’ries are waxing old The hardened heart of woman’s beau falls to depths of deep’ning grey Time can tell the tales told Countless years unloved unfold A heart of flesh will grow stone-cold, neglect and pain will speed decay Their spirits found alone in grace.
Though he loved, she knew it then The time they both were living when She played along; a lover’s ken A mercenary grace, her man-harem. A mirror in which to gaze therein One’s lovely face, her whole mien. He knew it not til later and Hoped on hope and hoped again. As they say, life carries on And on and on, til life is done And though love fades, it’s never gone From visions as the crows look on.
Bolstered by the books he’d read Borne upon his faithful steed A misguided page he’d lead upon this quest eternal. Myopic, he, whose quest to lead Sacrificed his mind in deed. “Marching onward!” he’d proceed; as stated in Cervantes’ journal.
Tilting windmills in his mind In lieu of foes of manifest kind Hoping from her a sign, lest love fade from prominence. Hero-worship: she yearned to find While steadfast love her heart maligns Constant waiting for a sign, the perfect man in petulance.
And though his love sincerely meant To worship her through its advent. A wasted effort, it was misspent To release devoted love so pent. And through the years, of her he dreamt The shades in sleeping came and went Nightmares some but more were sent To punish him for his intent.
An ancient castle intertwining Ivy leaves, its vines divining The tale of the stones decrying the lives gone astray The turret steeples overshadow Pungent silence in the water The pine trees are still sighing for the lovers gone away.