Image for the poem Gothic infidel

Gothic infidel

The stars and I tend to keep to ourselves, we've seen our share of misery, but that's okay by me, I enjoy the solitude. Only the moon can tell my secrets, she rises from the illumination of unjust.  
My heart beats to an absurd rythym and once in a while the trees join in, swaying like they're trying to paint the clouds. Restless, let them reel, let them free me from the perplexities of doubt where I am vanity's hostage.    
I left my past in a bed of moss and wild rose hips about twenty miles north of here, and the mountain's broad shoulders are guardians to my rebel riffs. Anguish stains my flesh, what I once thought beautiful is nothing more than a camouflaged graveyard where my convictions went to die.  
Root-bound, I look to the eastern horizon of a sable-vested night. I envy the stars as they rise out of chaos and harmonize in a chorus of Sibelius violins, a valse triste for desperate lovers.    
The way we inspire, how you call me beautiful, a nameless and deeply felt thing. In my mind, it is you who are beautiful.  
Together we are more than apart.  
(Artwork: Marianne Rosenstiehl)
Written by Kasai
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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