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Singing in the Winter Moonlight
- Singing in the Winter Moonlight -
What do the spirits sing to me in the cold moonlight?
As a winter evening descends, and whispers carry...
I hear that which is oft hastened on currents of night,
Ushered forth for brief times, never overlong to tarry.
Love in the warm embracing of a twilight hour cold...
That is what my mind sings to me of, in my lunacy.
Let the music play on, for as long as hearts beat bold,
That I may drown in it, freed from the lies of purity!
Never long, like the notes of a song,
Even and perfect, neither right nor wrong.
It simply is.
Simply bliss!
I hear the music that is forbidden by all humankind!
A symphony, a blasphemy, a truth that no one sees.
Like a lover, it seizes me ever wanton from behind,
And I surrender unto it, giving it the sublime victory.
Harlotry, artistry, in the heat of such a chill evening...
That is what my soul sings to me of, in my insanity.
Let the music play on, for as long as ice is gleaming,
That I may drown in it, purged of fleeting sanctity!
Never wrong, like the clang of a gong,
Loud and clear, I hear what is going on.
It simply is.
Simply bliss!
The moon weeps tears of blood, raining on down!
I feel its' droplets upon my skin, a lover's tickling...
Mounting, building, soon in its' flood I shall drown.
I part my lips, as moist as is this sanguine trickling!
Rapture in the heat of a night held in an icy grasp...
That is what my heart sings to me of, in madness.
Let the music play on, for as long as the notes last,
That I may drown in it, rid of all former sadness!
Never long, like the notes of a song,
Even and perfect, neither right nor wrong.
It simply is.
Simply bliss!
What do the spirits sing to me in the cold moonlight?
As a winter evening descends, and whispers carry...
I hear that which is oft hastened on currents of night,
Ushered forth for brief times, never overlong to tarry.
Love in the warm embracing of a twilight hour cold...
That is what my mind sings to me of, in my lunacy.
Let the music play on, for as long as hearts beat bold,
That I may drown in it, freed from the lies of purity!
Never long, like the notes of a song,
Even and perfect, neither right nor wrong.
It simply is.
Simply bliss!
I hear the music that is forbidden by all humankind!
A symphony, a blasphemy, a truth that no one sees.
Like a lover, it seizes me ever wanton from behind,
And I surrender unto it, giving it the sublime victory.
Harlotry, artistry, in the heat of such a chill evening...
That is what my soul sings to me of, in my insanity.
Let the music play on, for as long as ice is gleaming,
That I may drown in it, purged of fleeting sanctity!
Never wrong, like the clang of a gong,
Loud and clear, I hear what is going on.
It simply is.
Simply bliss!
The moon weeps tears of blood, raining on down!
I feel its' droplets upon my skin, a lover's tickling...
Mounting, building, soon in its' flood I shall drown.
I part my lips, as moist as is this sanguine trickling!
Rapture in the heat of a night held in an icy grasp...
That is what my heart sings to me of, in madness.
Let the music play on, for as long as the notes last,
That I may drown in it, rid of all former sadness!
Never long, like the notes of a song,
Even and perfect, neither right nor wrong.
It simply is.
Simply bliss!
Published 17th Feb 2016
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17th Feb 2016 8:17am
17th Feb 2016 10:00am
Why thank you both very, very much! This dark little poem of mine does indeed have an undeniable blissfulness to it that adds to the gothic beauty of its' verses... with just the right touch of mad abandon (or perhaps mad surrender) to it to give it that perfect something extra. :)
