Tuesday, April 06, 2010

The Gothic Bride

Now to drink a toast in Vampire Wine

And essay a parody in black;

We are souls in mourning,

Celebrating the fact.


Palest creatures hide the hottest fires.

Noon and midnight coincide in us,

Who cast such distorted shadows.

In darkness is my bliss, my strength.

The whole world’s damage I feel

In the back of my head, in my fingers...


All the ages of human history

Glower in my dark attire.

Cathedral-builders and world-destroyers

Are kindred in my blood.

We are silent watchers,

Drawn to the ruins.


A rosary of skulls for you, my love.

Killers can be gentle

And every saint is a whore.

Delicious heresy incites you

To discoveries and misadventures.

Your black-gloved hands

Tend salamander secrets.

Whispers and conspiracies

Are your angels of demise.


Reverberations of a churchyard bell

Summon the tribe of Morpheus

To celebrate the gypsy blood-wedding

Of time and man.

Dark fairies and fey occasions

Escort you to your bed.

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