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.
Tag: Blog
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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.
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Speak to me in loving tones and beautiful whispers, so I can hear your voice in my spirit eternally, and remember your love forever.
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A warm summer breeze blows your long hair against your face as we engage in joyous laughter; I cannot put in words the love I feel for you. I am taken to another place ever time I kiss you; an ethereal realm with heaven’s light, for just us two. Every time you are not near I miss you. At your side in the hospital, doubt clouded my mind and there were times I thought you wouldn’t pull through. Ceaselessly I prayed for your healing while holding your hands, for that is the only thing I could do. I fell asleep, and when I awakened, I swore I saw four heavenly angels in light surrounding you. My sweet, my care and my love for you is true; you are more beautiful than a pink rose in the morning dew. You have given me your hand in marriage, and I have vowed a sacred vow to always love and protect you. I love you. With all my heart, I love you.
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Cold fall winds blow
A woman looks out of a window
The eyes that stare are the eyes of sorrow
This is not the mask of joy she wears
For these eyes are the eyes that people don’t know
In silence and loneliness she suffers
And she will wear her mask again tomorrow
To perform her daily and arduous show
But if one could get past the mask
To see her pain and daunting task
And offer a comforting place for tears to flow
Then the depths of her they would know – -
In the face of fear let us hold onto our light;
In our darkest hours we will prevail against the horrors of the night.
Though we are sorrowful, we are spirited;
Though we may fear, our hearts will not fail;
Though our crosses are heavy, we will not falter;
Though we shed tears, our hearts are filled with love;
Though we are misunderstood, we will persevere;
Though we may be unloved, we will find the strength to love ourselves.Neither fear, nor sorrow, nor doubt, nor tribulation, nor fire, or deep waters stop our resolve.
Let our names be written in gold and read aloud in heaven’s roll.
Let the world stare upon us in jealousy and wonder.
Let us, the sorrowful, meet at that peaceful river and cry in each other’s arms.
Let us all link and hold each other in love as we silently turn our heads to the sky and look at the starlight. -
God, speak to me in the darkness, so I can follow your voice into the light.
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Can you accept my faults?
Can you accept my fears?
If I reveal myself to you in earnest
Will you still be there?Will you use my vulnerabilities against me?
Will you mention them and intentionally try to hurt me?
In my time of pain will you be there for me?
Will you give of your love unconditionally?
Intimate Compositions 