The shadows of the night…

Those raven travailing mysteries,

Of the deaths proven contrite,

To any acceptable causalities,

In the slaying of virgin light.

(Which loyally escape in fright!)

Granting each gravestone stern,

A momentary flit of indication,

In the tranquil earth all earn,

When time meets Gods’ discretion,

And bowing, falls in lost sojourn.

O’ shadow-phantoms which be,

Present thyself to querying minds…

The dead, floating on a moonlit sea,

Which count stars each sky finds,

Misunderstandably.

For ask me not how or why,

You must journey in midnights’ hush,

Tormenting dead and living nigh,

With what can be or not lush,

In Hell, on Earth, or heaven high.

Spoiled with bones and memories;

Creaks and moans in shadows wither,

Tears fall as leaves on cold fall trees,

Drowning the dead, unmoving hither.

Casts of portrayed black air,

Curse the dreaming dead,

By stomping on graves made there,

Waking and calling up from bed,

To glance with eyes, the ended care

(Visions they no longer share).

The blood-thirsty and ever tired,

Thrown with pulsed beats and motions,

Seek for what should be acquired,

In learning how to sail the oceans,

To find that sinkings are required.

Carved silhouettes ashen,

Somberly turn glances once wild,

To the tombs of times’ crash-in.

The cries of every once-held child,

In scars of graystone and sin.

O’ those black silent pictures,

Of what can soon or far-off be,

Shown in burnt coal blurs….

The internal imagery,

Of what ever-endures,

As eternal destiny.

K. Aldaya, 7/27/05

Picture:  “Reflection of Death” by Corvinerium on Deviant Art; http://corvinerium.deviantart.com/art/Reflection-Of-Death-355014597