Sta.sh
(a movement of blood - destiny)
It is a place where life ends and love begins..
It is the river where lovers meet
~ A river forged in deepest scarlet.
Lost in the silence of blackened candles,
clad in silhouettes of poison — I seek love
In the song of a ravaged dawn I hath drowned
Deep in the flesh of the underworld I bathe in
the nectar of requiem
O' father, caress my untamed wounds with
your dread, lest I wander among angels
Dark'n dreary the river's sorrow, as shadows
spill from mine eyes unto gardens of ebony
— where my ache forever sails in portraits
of scarlet & decayed dreams
Dearest love,
Under a blood-filled sky, I shall undress you
in the abyss of my dead soul
The wilderness of your lips I will ordain in
temples of melancholy as you lust and wither
Ash and sanguine bespeaks in the mists of
my sable carriage as haste I night's garnish
Surrender thee to eudemon horizons — for
thou hath become the audience of
my eternal darkness
Bequeath your soul to the hunger of
the River Styx and watch my blood cast
swift into waters hallowed
Covet my love in the elixir of sacrifice
and lay we among wilting thorns and seed
brook with dark fable
Bewail I deeper to the thrust of dagger,
yet knowest you not the tempest of my soul!
Alas I drink whispers of the dead, haunted in
stygian lore & entombed civilizations
Hither the netherworld sow Acheronian winds
and salivate in mortal heartbeat forlorn
For thee, I shall forever bleed until the river
has drowned Moon and stars...
for my blood is without end — a sky of wine
So sweet the flavor bereft upon my lips
Across the dark banks I gaze..
bouquets of death swirl in a tapestry of
passion caressing our naked skin
Adrift in the nocturnal rapture of black roses,
our souls entwine... as the river arcs in
bloodscapes of hadean-fusion
Glistening in obsidian fires, I stagger
thru the timbre of windswept voices,
held captive in incantations of woe
Breathe me deeper my love; for
the ravenous landscapes of my soul await
thine tears of sweet crimson
I am gothic rain upon breast of thy thirst
— drink me deep
The River Acheron bleeds in the exodus
of dreams fallen...
Beware the Crow poised in your
mortal soul
Arthur Crow © 2012
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Legend and fantasy inspire me to no end
work is fantastic literature. I'm reading Crows right now, amazing!!
You are the Master of your own pen, you've tamed it well, and yet it is still wild in its own way; your way!
I very much enjoyed reading this poem.