• Florentina Bernadette

DAGGERS OF MIDNIGHT

#Love #Loss #VintagePoem #Classical

She gazed around the corner, Not a sturdy soul in sight,

Weary smile and wary eyed, Her feet that devour plight.

She draped her cape in haste, Stepped out into the light,

The silence, the stillness, the screaming, Beckoned to her delight.

She crept along the sidewalk , Hidden but well in sight,

To those who wished to see, See the daggers of midnight.

She glided through the dim-lit porch, Growing louder but weaker still,

Yelps of anguish, sobs of love, Over brokenness, heart, and will.

She knelt beside, she sought the wound, As tearful eyes quivered at her,

"You seek what cannot be sought", she said, "There is but one cure."

She raised the dagger, striking the moon, And whispered through the still and dear,

"Your memories will melt, your love will fade, To t'is you will adhere."

She slipped the edge into the heart, The bosom of truth, of grace, of love,

As a gallant voice broke the calm, "Why," he gasped, "Pray tell me how!"

She whirled around to look into them, Eyes so deep and bewildered,

Reviving her pale, entangled soul, A saviour that despair delivered.

He knelt beside, he sought the wound, As tearful eyes quivered at him,

"You seek what cannot be sought," he said, "A forgotten love, the vow now grim."

He eased the blade from within her, As the girl grazed off in trance,

He sobbed in the spirit of hovering regret, "Why not give them another chance?"

She smiled in solemn adieu, she said, "I do it not at will,

But doomed by them, those powers great, To thwart those broken still."

He glided forth in pale crove swiftness, Dropping the knife on edge,

"What powers hold doth in doom," he teamed, "You are my privilege."

He embraced her with frozen hands, Hands begging for sweet surrender,

Caving in to steal her lips, The glories of love to render.

She drew him in, but quickly declined, Her trembling fingers, paved him back,

"I can not," she whispered, sobs on roll, "You ask for that I lack."

She whirled around, sighting the blade, "You must need forget," a sigh.

She raised it to the stars, her eyes, Spoke in tongues of a truthful lie.

He whispered in joy, to an ending of cheer, "You've seen the truth at heart,

Let them go, your regrets of ol', May t'is silence witness our new start."

She swayed it in, not at him, but her, "I must depart, must a soul remember,

Of the hurt within, a love that never was, Or ever could be, not now, not ever."

Foot Note:

The poem revolves around a maiden who has the ability to hear the hurt and sorrow of a broken heart. Being doomed by a great mystic power, in order to ensure her survival, she needs to stab the hurting with forgetfulness. When offered a lifetime of love that could never be her's, she stabs herself to death, letting her beloved remember.


With love,

Parallel Lines

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