When the night coughs lightly too
The misty, humid air
Between the dark harvest of shadows
And that long eerie croon
That rides upon the winds hollow flow
Filling the night to the desperate
The lonely, painful cry and tear
That still resides to the dream world
Half lost, half forgotten.

She sleeps her deep
Where once the lavender tones confided
And laid the will to blissful tones
In serenades of fancy and delight
That ravished her form
Teased each aching throb
And rested the deep metaphoric Ideal
Of crashing waves and the fireworks explosions.

Now she wanders these dark narrow paths
That daunts her horizons, entwine her thoughts
With that haunting image of her faded heart
That weeps upon the pools, midnight's facade
And pours down to empty upon those long lost seas of hope.
How far the soul travels in its long despair
Its desperate want to feel once again
The tranquil night of passions embrace.

How bitter the flow of the tyrants love
That wears the mask of truth
She hovered upon his every tale
Lingered her breath there to his
And danced the purple rays of dreams
Where love so opened her free
To dance, to dream and blindly see.

She sits alone in her tiny room
Fearing the images that fill her so
Tired for the want of blessed rest
Yet fearing where dreams shall carry her soul
To those old grounds of loves demise
The painful moments, silent cries
The day the world was torn and rendered barren
The day her tears filled heaven.


Alisdaire O'Caoimph