deepundergroundpoetry.com
Flower of Death
- Flower of Death -
“Every light spirit hath too its’ dark side!
Wherever is life, Death also doth abide.”
“The white wolf hath its’ night black twin,
Both as beautiful as the noble heart within…
The red rose and the black that doth bloom,
In springtime, past winter’s bleak gloom!
Every full moon hath its’ black moon too,
Each starry night hath its’ day sky, blue…
In all things thus, a balance is maintained.
Death is part of that balance, proclaimed!
Worlds art born and worlds rendered dust,
But life yet continues, as surely as it must.
And she is there with gods and man alike…
As delicate as a rose, yet of godlike might!”
Death is the Dark Mistress, yet Death is a most delicate flower…
Soft art her petals to the touch, and sweet is the scent of her perfume.
Yet, be not foolish and thusly underestimate not, her fatal power!
Sharp art her thorns to the flesh, and poisonous art her petals, to consume,
Some canst not hope to resist the intense temptation to so partake,
While others doth fear the very sight of her true and dark beauty.
A black rose is she, and bloody art the thorns of the rose of death…
Man doth water her petals with fervor, and ever for her own sake,
And the water doth run as scarlet and crimson, by this harsh duty.
Death is the dark flower that canst never be plucked from its’ soil…
Rich and fertile it is, and black as the endless nights of the Abyss.
Yet, it is also in truth maintained not, by any great or rough toil!
Easy art the fields of death to work, and her reward is one final kiss.
Some flee not readily from the porcelain of her unveiled face,
Whilst still doth others refuse to fall before her pale white charm.
Red as blood is the sweetest mist given thus of her very breath…
None canst ever hope to draw away from her mighty embrace,
And even the strongest, she doth soon with little effort disarm.
Death is the goddess that will never be appeased with mere song…
She is mighty in her glory, and furious in her great ashen wrath.
Yet, she is terrible not always, in her justice and divine mercy!
Soothed is the anguish of the sufferer, as pain, he no longer hath.
Some find a heaven in the release of her most peaceful caress,
Whilst still doth others find torment and an endless eternal hell.
Fire like unto blazing stars burns hotly in her eyes and breath…
Gentle and welcoming is her smile, but very somber is her dress,
She sings lovingly when her hour is nigh, as she rings a silver bell.
Death in all of her glory is in truth a most splendidly noble Queen…
Unchallenged is her rule, and ever silent doth become the opposition.
Yet, despised not by all, is her old and divinely appointed regime!
For, she is needed by life itself, to keep a balance, in true position.
Some canst not ever begin to fathom the purposes in her plan,
Whilst others try to understand only the bleakness and cruelty!
Scarlet as a blood red pomegranate art the soft lips of Death…
She slakes her thirst like a vampire, and so wherever she can,
And the wine runs as doth blood, from the doing of her duty.
She is cold as is ice that chills in winter the unprotected skin,
She is hot as is the hellfire that burns away every mortal sin,
She is cool as art the rains that fall but gently in the spring,
She is warm as is the bread that generous hands lovingly bring,
She is selfish as is a miser who craves and covets ever more,
She is generous as a mother who turns no child from her door.
She is the darkness that swallows up the damned and the lost,
She is the light that illuminates the initiated, whatever the cost.
She is the relentless foe; yet, she is the most precious friend,
She watches at the hour of every birth, and she waits at every end.
She is Death. Death is she. Ereshkigal. Persephone.
She is part of eternity. And she is also a part of me.
“For, every light spirit hath its’ dark side!
Wherever is life, Death also doth abide.”
“Every light spirit hath too its’ dark side!
Wherever is life, Death also doth abide.”
“The white wolf hath its’ night black twin,
Both as beautiful as the noble heart within…
The red rose and the black that doth bloom,
In springtime, past winter’s bleak gloom!
Every full moon hath its’ black moon too,
Each starry night hath its’ day sky, blue…
In all things thus, a balance is maintained.
Death is part of that balance, proclaimed!
Worlds art born and worlds rendered dust,
But life yet continues, as surely as it must.
And she is there with gods and man alike…
As delicate as a rose, yet of godlike might!”
Death is the Dark Mistress, yet Death is a most delicate flower…
Soft art her petals to the touch, and sweet is the scent of her perfume.
Yet, be not foolish and thusly underestimate not, her fatal power!
Sharp art her thorns to the flesh, and poisonous art her petals, to consume,
Some canst not hope to resist the intense temptation to so partake,
While others doth fear the very sight of her true and dark beauty.
A black rose is she, and bloody art the thorns of the rose of death…
Man doth water her petals with fervor, and ever for her own sake,
And the water doth run as scarlet and crimson, by this harsh duty.
Death is the dark flower that canst never be plucked from its’ soil…
Rich and fertile it is, and black as the endless nights of the Abyss.
Yet, it is also in truth maintained not, by any great or rough toil!
Easy art the fields of death to work, and her reward is one final kiss.
Some flee not readily from the porcelain of her unveiled face,
Whilst still doth others refuse to fall before her pale white charm.
Red as blood is the sweetest mist given thus of her very breath…
None canst ever hope to draw away from her mighty embrace,
And even the strongest, she doth soon with little effort disarm.
Death is the goddess that will never be appeased with mere song…
She is mighty in her glory, and furious in her great ashen wrath.
Yet, she is terrible not always, in her justice and divine mercy!
Soothed is the anguish of the sufferer, as pain, he no longer hath.
Some find a heaven in the release of her most peaceful caress,
Whilst still doth others find torment and an endless eternal hell.
Fire like unto blazing stars burns hotly in her eyes and breath…
Gentle and welcoming is her smile, but very somber is her dress,
She sings lovingly when her hour is nigh, as she rings a silver bell.
Death in all of her glory is in truth a most splendidly noble Queen…
Unchallenged is her rule, and ever silent doth become the opposition.
Yet, despised not by all, is her old and divinely appointed regime!
For, she is needed by life itself, to keep a balance, in true position.
Some canst not ever begin to fathom the purposes in her plan,
Whilst others try to understand only the bleakness and cruelty!
Scarlet as a blood red pomegranate art the soft lips of Death…
She slakes her thirst like a vampire, and so wherever she can,
And the wine runs as doth blood, from the doing of her duty.
She is cold as is ice that chills in winter the unprotected skin,
She is hot as is the hellfire that burns away every mortal sin,
She is cool as art the rains that fall but gently in the spring,
She is warm as is the bread that generous hands lovingly bring,
She is selfish as is a miser who craves and covets ever more,
She is generous as a mother who turns no child from her door.
She is the darkness that swallows up the damned and the lost,
She is the light that illuminates the initiated, whatever the cost.
She is the relentless foe; yet, she is the most precious friend,
She watches at the hour of every birth, and she waits at every end.
She is Death. Death is she. Ereshkigal. Persephone.
She is part of eternity. And she is also a part of me.
“For, every light spirit hath its’ dark side!
Wherever is life, Death also doth abide.”
Published 1st Dec 2014
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The author encourages honest critique.
1st Dec 2014 9:39am
2nd Dec 2014 4:10am
I am happy that you enjoyed reading it so much, my friend! Sometimes the darker inks have some of the brightest beauty to them. I am glad you were so entranced by the beauty in my poem! Your comments are always much appreciated. :)
Anonymous
2nd Dec 2014 8:34am
such dark beauty,a purification of sorts,rising from the ashes masterly penned,dear Jessica...
3rd Dec 2014 3:29am
Very glad you enjoyed the poem, big sister! It was indeed quite a darkly beautiful write, for certain. I am glad to have shared it with everyone here, and thrilled to see how well received it has been! :)
