deepundergroundpoetry.com
Abandoned
The touch of the sun has gone cold
All alone
Where she wept on parapets
In despair, in regret
Her tears fall like Autumn reborn
The emerald wine sits untouched, stagnant
Chilled to the point of death, vile and pungent
A seven year itch of the likes of witch
You cannot fathom with phantom lanterns
Loneliness clashes against lordliness
Her faith is tested against the weight of the world
He would not be there
At night in revels spent
In drunken slumber
And lustful hunger
The arms of the succubus
Night by sweaty night
There goes the time, it went
And cold the bed grew, empty and void
As she sat, broken, defeated and destroyed
The ghosts, they whisper things in her ear
And laughed manically as she shed her tears
The wind blows in the open windows
The stinging bite falls on numb arms glazed with snow
To embrace the fate given to her
Was like embedding the screws when they start to turn
She sat cocooned
Wrapped in her doom
The face disgraced
Stares at the moon
She sat like an idol of old
That’s abandoned out in the cold
From her chair to the winter spring
Frozen over with raven wings
Absent is the absinthe in withered veins
The ravens perch atop where dead men hang
The signs that were missed and lips not kissed
You cannot fathom with phantom lanterns
Misery couples with her tragedy
Her faith smashes against echoing marble floors
In throes of passion
He did not see it there
Vampiric demons
That sup at semen
The bite of the succubus
Night by bloody night
Sucked him dry in perfumed lairs
And soon the fever took hold when he
Decided to return to her and when she
Saw the state of ruin, bloodshot eyes
Desperately he piled the lies onto lies
Youth returned with the undead caress
He offered the blessing so she could cheat death
She lashed about in a raging fit
In the grip of despair, threw herself from the parapets
She lays cocooned
Wrapped in her doom
The face disgraced
Stares at the moon
She sleeps like an idol of old
That’s abandoned out in the cold
From her chair to the winter spring
Frozen over with raven wings
All alone
Where she wept on parapets
In despair, in regret
Her tears fall like Autumn reborn
The emerald wine sits untouched, stagnant
Chilled to the point of death, vile and pungent
A seven year itch of the likes of witch
You cannot fathom with phantom lanterns
Loneliness clashes against lordliness
Her faith is tested against the weight of the world
He would not be there
At night in revels spent
In drunken slumber
And lustful hunger
The arms of the succubus
Night by sweaty night
There goes the time, it went
And cold the bed grew, empty and void
As she sat, broken, defeated and destroyed
The ghosts, they whisper things in her ear
And laughed manically as she shed her tears
The wind blows in the open windows
The stinging bite falls on numb arms glazed with snow
To embrace the fate given to her
Was like embedding the screws when they start to turn
She sat cocooned
Wrapped in her doom
The face disgraced
Stares at the moon
She sat like an idol of old
That’s abandoned out in the cold
From her chair to the winter spring
Frozen over with raven wings
Absent is the absinthe in withered veins
The ravens perch atop where dead men hang
The signs that were missed and lips not kissed
You cannot fathom with phantom lanterns
Misery couples with her tragedy
Her faith smashes against echoing marble floors
In throes of passion
He did not see it there
Vampiric demons
That sup at semen
The bite of the succubus
Night by bloody night
Sucked him dry in perfumed lairs
And soon the fever took hold when he
Decided to return to her and when she
Saw the state of ruin, bloodshot eyes
Desperately he piled the lies onto lies
Youth returned with the undead caress
He offered the blessing so she could cheat death
She lashed about in a raging fit
In the grip of despair, threw herself from the parapets
She lays cocooned
Wrapped in her doom
The face disgraced
Stares at the moon
She sleeps like an idol of old
That’s abandoned out in the cold
From her chair to the winter spring
Frozen over with raven wings
Published 27th Nov 2014
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28th Nov 2014 2:00am
This is fantastic vampire poetry! I love it lots. It reminds me a bit of Anne Rice's Queen of the Damned, especially the part that reads:
"She sleeps like an idol of old
That's abandoned out in the cold"
And that right there conjures powerful and dark images in the reader's mind. Amazing writing! :D
"She sleeps like an idol of old
That's abandoned out in the cold"
And that right there conjures powerful and dark images in the reader's mind. Amazing writing! :D
29th Nov 2014 3:48am
many thanks. I really need to check out more of her writing, but believe it or not I have never really cared for a lot of vampire lit
29th Nov 2014 5:01am
29th Nov 2014 5:18am
