Requiem of a Dream

Requiem for a Dream; souls lost, but never forgotten.


Saved once but long ago.
By one whom have passed forth.

Unto a place, beyond, the other side.

A realm-

I know not...
I touch not...
I feel not...
I reach not...

Day or night, wonder I?
Peering onwards, fog shrouds I.


Suddenly a smile appears, a million moments, encompassed in a temporary spasm.
Fluid warmth seeping into lonely lives, shining like a beacon of light.
Look closely, for it may pass swiftly but long will it be imprinted upon your memory.
Unlike those of a photograph, but like an animal, branded.
Shake it, scrub it, seize it; unless you but tear it from you.
It lies, resting there, infallible flaws.

Did your pair of eyes truly see- what it -saw?
Betrayal of senses. A trickery of illusions.
Lost in a rabbit hole.

Hidden; emotions swimming, invisibly looming, underneath.
An iceberg, afloat yet suppressed.


The mountain of carefully placed cards collapse.
At the very top, you are faced with the Ace of Spades.
But it is the Queen of Hearts that lie at the most bottom of it all.
Covered, unseen.
So- what lies in a deck of cards?
A cut of fate, or a lucky draw?

A collage; patches, here and there.
Sewn together, to create but a tapestry.
What stories do they tell?
Listen carefully.

(cont'd)


Take heed, take notice.
A soul tremors and quakes.
The mistress no longer conscious.

The skies part, yet heaven and hell are but at one.
May the fallen angel veer forth, harking upon their message.

Let me fall;

Free...
Down...
Unknown...
Darkness...
Light...
No longer in existence.

Only those who dare, fling apart the curtains to look into the set of window placed forth.
Shall but possess the final scroll.
What does it predict?


Falling, stumbling, running, liking a merry-go-round.
The creak of them wooden horses, teasing, taunting, daring you to join them.
Tiny lift bulbs flickering, sinister colours, resembling flames.
The mist, prances about, like children, inviting one, in laughter.
Do you hear that musical tune play, out of the music box?

No-where yet every-where at once.
I can not see, I can not grasp; nothing.
Except your face, but ever thus blurred, elusive.
Existing in a past, that appears like a vague myth.
I chase it; yet I cannot catch it.

What is in a space of emptiness?

(cont'd)


A voice repeatedly calling out to me.
In desperation, I cry out, attempts at a response- I hear you, I hear you. I am coming.
Reverberating silence.

Each step, pounding rhythms like drums, deeply beating.
In my ears, within my being, at every turn.
A rise and fall, as it swell and ebbs.
Tides as connected to the moon.
Closer, closer, and closer; I go


Screeching screams.
Silent screams
Do you hear them moan out in agony?
Can you fanthom, their escape?

One master key to unleash, like a final act of magical mysteries.
Yet through the manual heave, push and pull.
As these fingers, dig, deep, twisting, within me.
These guts, carelessly strewn about.


Yet, no sound.
Not even a hint, of a wisp, of winds, blowing.
Aching, burning in anguish, engulfed in anonymity

Where are you?
Where are you?
.
.
.
.
Where are you?

An empty expanse, a sea of blank echoes, staring right back at me.

(cont'd)


What is in the word which carries no meaning.
Hollow, comprehension exists not.
Illegible scribbles upon crippling parchments.
For this is white noise.


The event; pronounced or renounced.
It creeps up like a snake slithering so, invisible hands, holding me down, pinning me so.
Wrapped, as a gallows noose would, cradling my neck like a lover would.
Choking every living breathe out of me.
My hands grasp its form, in sharp eagle claws.
Only to rip the heated flesh from my very fingers, in futile attempts.
Legs twitching, jerking, flailing, until- snap, the slender neck sways.
Delicately, tenderly, ever gently so.
The purple kisses spread like wild flower, painting the pale canvas; gay.
Feet dangling, forlorn as a rag-doll would.
Eyes blacken, orbs of infinite darkness sinks.


Edging over there, or over here.
Towards a ledge; nearer and nearer yet.
As it looms, I tower.

Thrown open like a door, wide upon a greeting party of pride.
My arms spread; palms open, splayed.
Closing my eyes, tilting my head upwards.
My lips part, a singular word, barely whispered.
Fleeing upon the vessel of last exhalation.
I push myself over, the last hurdle of barricades.


The regale bird takes flight; soaring.
Watch her swerve and glide upon her stately journey.
Map exists not, as it pursues no chartered course.
Bound not by nets nor time.
A fatal trigger sounds, and it falls from grace.
Fighting for her last evidence of dance.
Yearning for her last pursuit of freedom- an expression.
Disappearing down, out-of-sight.
Dying amongst a maroon mess.

An offering, a sacrifice.
Taken me.

(cont'd)


I shed, these velvet ribbons that line and bind me.
Weep in tears, looking down, upon my hands.
Why, these are but tears of berry blush, crushed.
Did the Saints but grief in compassionate unison?

What goblet must hold, this precious wine.
Which spill forth only from those of a living goddess, expelled and lost.
Take a sip, see it blossom upon your cheeks.
Like rouge mistakenly put- as would a whore or a clown?

Double entendre; though look, they may exist as one.
All these promises, snuck in and about.
Fleeting like fire-flies, surprised.
Instant confusion, blow the candles out.
Glow, glow it chants- from whence?


Crimson red, rose petals, upon my hand-
Continuously falling...
Raining...
Scattering...
Splattering everywhere....
Thorns prick, scratching every part of me.
Leaving lines of red ink, like lines within a book.
The skin tears, scraped from every inch of me.
Each layer shed, painfully so, unveiling foundations never seen.

I, the mask fall, away.
One, by one.
Vulnerable.
Naked.
...and Bare.


As I approach, a seeming intimacy.
The stamped postal marks, memories of-
Your voice...
Your smile...
Your warm embrace...
You comforting presence...
Your wise words...
So near and yet so far.


Just as one but thinks the distant gaps will meld.
Bounded every closer together,
It eludes my grasp once again, like sand falling between my fingers.
Mocking me so.

No more.
This statuette of solidity breaks.
Watch that smooth marble reveal the restraint.
I cannot bear, for today I will die, if once.
So I may join you, where-ever you may be, to find you.
For this must be done.
I stare, at the snickering blade, reflecting so.
The light dances on and off it, a platform unknown.
Oh, the cruelty it knows, of my impending pain.
The terrible woe.


Please but allow me the strength to take, this very jeweled dagger.
Rubies yet forth, with white sapphires to behold.
Magnificent, as magnificent as its deed.
I plunge it straight through, this sacred chest of hidden treasures.
No longer, for it penetrates into the very depths of my soul.
I slide it across and up; certain death.


A smile yet again, graces these lips.
Can you ever guess, why?

(cont'd)


Shattering, shards of multicoloured glass upon the once shining pillars, flailing forth like shrapnel.
For this is war, a conflict between life and death, past and present, to be or not to be.
The chaos, the destruction of who I am and everything that I am.

Worlds collide and fall apart.
You and I, have intercepted upon a place untouched.
Breathing in; and breathing out.
Everything slowed, in motion still.
Pieces of momentary states floats on by.
Each one passing, like flashes upon a carousel projector.
I remember, things I have long forgotten.
Moments lived and un-lived.
Out of these contracted dimensions one go.
Immortal- to where?


Once upon a time...
You have rescued me, when I was sent; ready for death.
Now I can only save those whom are but left behind; after you.
I see a golden mane, alas on closer inspection, it is but a muddied, sheeps coat.
Redemption.



Gasping.
Drowning.
Will you save me?




I wake up, cold sweat breaks / Exhaustion.
It was a dream, only but a dream / Burning Anguish.

(cont'd)


[Epilogue]

Places the mask back on, carefully tucking in any wandering wisps, neatly so.
Flings around her shoulders, the veil which cloaks, all.
The Lady rides on forward, with faith in her heart, and might upon her will.
Divided as halves- on her black steed, her white-winged self soars, flying on above, in grace.

With winds now bellowing, lifting her hair here and there as it passes.
As if fingers were, but stroking it- careful understanding.
She embarks forth, like thus a dark figure into oblivion.
Never once looking back, for this is who she is, her own strength.
She is The Mistress of Death. A sword she consistently wields, in times of peace and war.
It is always but a journey, to be re-born, as dragons and phoenixes do.


Watch that fleeting smile, that careful gaze, the tender caress of her hands, and relish it. Blink not, for next you turn your head, she will be but gone.


Veiled thus in black, mourning for losses that were, that have been, that will be.
For this is a cycle, we must all embark on.
Fated as it is so.


Now, she turns toward the uncertain future.
Her lips momentarily part.
For a moment, a brief moment, you see her hands shake, upon her reigns.
Her chest moving to music, severed.
A shining glistening...
tear-drop...
falls...
.
.
.




Will you ever forgive me?






Gone.


Copyright ?? 2013. TheLadyScorpio. All rights.