The fires of fear rage against me. I will look to the mountains and valley streams for peace and reprieve. I will call on your name in the evening while walking through vast fields of cherry blossom trees. Let the starlight bear witness to the peace that overcomes my countenance; let the moon and the stars see the love in my heart that pours out for you. My love, kiss me deeply and tell me a story of two lovers who lived a dream and died in each others arms. I will sing a new song to you in a whispering tone while you are asleep, and run my fingers gently through your long hair. Darling, your countenance is that of an angel. Let us sleep in lush open fields so that the moonlight can illuminate your beautiful face. Let the night’s sky look down upon us and be envious of our love. You are my heart. You are my life. Your femininity has captured me for perpetuity. The way you draw me close to you with hands soft as silk; the way you softly kiss me as if I were in an eternal dream. The scent of your freshly washed hair and the scent of your perfume captures the essence of you. The color of your lipstick is in beautiful contrast with the tone of your skin. Your earrings and necklace set you in elegant array. My weary head resting in your bosom is a comfort that could never be described. I listen to your heartbeat and fall asleep as if I were a child. Close to your heart is were I will always be. You are my heart and I am yours. We are no longer two, but have become one. In the midst of my darkness, you are the moon, stars, and the sun.
-
Dried teardrops are invisible. The heaviness of sorrow lingers. Agony of unrealized dreams are consumed by the darkness. Remnants of pain are left on a razor’s edge. Angels weep.
-
Misery has found me and the dark place relentlessly calls for me. I can hear the weeping of the sorrowful; the unceasing bellowing of the tormented is unbearable, and renders me despondent. The woman in the black veil stares at me and sees my distress. With a haunting wail she disappears into the darkness; the train of her black dress follows behind her. My soul burns with anguish within me. I have called to the heavens with tears but have heard no answer; my only comfort is the memory of my mother. The desolation wears on me, and the abyss pulls me closer to the ground. I have stood strong for many seasons, but the years have quietly stolen my youthful strength. The putrid smoke of the abyss is offensive and it scorches my eyes. I stumble around in darkness wanting to cry out but I will not give the dark place any more of my tears. Within me, hope wanes and despair has taken up residence. Only the fire of anger keeps my feet steady on the long and dark road. Sorrow increases day by day, and the poisonous fruit of trepidation is eaten by many. Is there any rest for the weary? So many tired and ghostly faces pass by me as I look into their eyes intently. Suffering has been our portion, and unrelenting pain our heavy cross to bear. Who will witness our plight and record the days of our lives? Maybe the heavens will open, and finally hear the agony in my cries.
-
Although our passion
Has faded away,
And sorrow wounds
Me night and day,
I will still say,
I love you. -
The woman in the black veil still weeps. The earth is saturated with her tears, and quakes in anger and sorrow. The sounds of her weeping and wailing pierces the very soul, and gives way to emotional waves of sadness. Only the tormented and afflicted know her pain. She walks among the shadows at night; her long black dress adorned with lace, drags on the ground behind her. Her black veil conceals her face. The children of the night and the afflicted know her name; she calls to them in a haunting voice and they come. They slowly approach with faces of sadness and watery eyes of pain; she wipes the tears from their eyes through black satin gloves. In silence, they congregate around her in a circle and stretch forth their hands to touch her; in each ear she faintly whispers the name of the child she lost, and to the afflicted she gives a sorrowful kiss. One by one they slowly depart, and fade into the darkness. The memory of her lost child is sealed within her. With a loud voice, she screams the name of her dead beloved repetitively—then silence. The darkness knows her name and is consumed with her anguish. The abyss is stirred.
-
Heaven’s light,
Shine down on the children
Of the night;
See their pain;
See their hunger;
Know their plight.
Bless them;
Love them;
Adorn them
In garments of white.
Hear the longing
in their cries;
Comfort them;
Forever wipe the
Tears from their eyes. -
The billows of peril blow;
The smoke of never ending agony
Is involuntarily inhaled,
And enters the bloodstream;
The torturous moments
Are replayed over and over.
The body tries to rid itself of the invasion,
But once it starts, it cannot be stopped;
It must run its course.
It is difficult to remain calm as panic ensues.
Descent into the abyss seems imminent;
The darkness is frightful and consuming.
Afflicted souls cry out
And reach for a place of light;
Hyper-vigilant eyes scan corners
In the darkness of night.
The pulse rate increases
And the heart palpitates.
The cries of the sorrowful
and the afflicted are seldom heard;
The dividing line between sanity
And insanity is easily blurred.
Windows to the soul are bloodshot
And clouded with tears;
The emaciated appearance
Is the result of the hardship of the years.
Curiosity of passersby cause them to look
Deep into the eyes;
The suffering of the soul is seen;
They quickly look away in horror—
And many cry upon witnessing
The utter desolation and ruin of that dark place.
Tired Souls listlessly huddle together in pitch darkness,
And together await the dawning of the sun;
So that heaven can hear their plea,
In unison they continuously hum. -
Her silence is not golden. It is hard for her to speak. She is listless and tired. Her eyes are the written volumes of her life. Read through the pages thoroughly, and in deep concentration. See the torturous blood that flows through her veins; feel her sorrow. Hear the agony in her voice.
-
Speak to me in loving tones and beautiful whispers, so I can hear your voice in my spirit eternally, and remember your love forever.
-
See me;
See me for who I am.
In my passion, see my desire;
In my weeping, see my pain:
In my warmth, see my love;
In my agony, see my affliction.
Intimate Compositions 