May 2014
She moved in beauty,
like darkness within a shadow.
Pinkish skin like that of a new born,
and hair kissed by fire.
The corridor came crashing down
as I longed for her being
while trembling at the hint of her oblivion,
slowly permeating like winter's cold.
The clouds gathered, and Vesuvius rumbled
in the distance.
I crept up on her
in the vague moonlight,
and she whispered;
“I am Vishnu, destroyer of worlds.”
Still... I longed.
like darkness within a shadow.
Pinkish skin like that of a new born,
and hair kissed by fire.
The corridor came crashing down
as I longed for her being
while trembling at the hint of her oblivion,
slowly permeating like winter's cold.
The clouds gathered, and Vesuvius rumbled
in the distance.
I crept up on her
in the vague moonlight,
and she whispered;
“I am Vishnu, destroyer of worlds.”
Still... I longed.
The first line of the first stanza is obviously a bit of thievery from Byron. I wanted to juxtapose a famous statement about beauty with a famous statement about destruction and thus the Oppenheimer quote in the last stanza. The penultimate stanza is mostly inspired by a Bastille song.
