Gothic Imaginings: Who is the Real You?

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Not much to ask is it? Black and red go so well together. As do velvet darkness and moonlit nights heavy with the scent of night blooming jasmine. Black roses unfurl their beauty, beckoning drama and unfolding passion. Where does the siren lead? To paths plunging deep into the inner world of forgotten gods, unicorns and Faerie folk. Ancient songs haunt the winds of change,  telling and retelling tales of tragedy and heroic acts. A little dramatic would you say?

Does it unsettle to look beneath the mask, search out truths and untruths hidden deep? Does it pain the soul to admit failings and regrets? Who and what do we desire to be are questions asked but with no answers forthcoming. Look beyond the illusions and seek the person slumbering within whispers the voice in our mind.

 

 

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Tread Softly Dear Love

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This was a strange one to write. I love the sea and feel its pull strongly, it calls bringing voices of the past and something yet to come. On this occasion it brought with it a tale of something and someone lost. A mariner who lost his life due to treachery and seeking revenge on the perpetrators. Revenge is a toxin that can remain even beyond death if we choose to accept  its embrace. This lost soul yearns for his former love, haunting her steps in the waking world and within her dreams. He also haunts the living, filled with a raging hatred.

Such is the strength of the mariner’s ire that the gods are compelled to deal with him. One such divine being is enlisted to calm the storm within this soul and release him from this purgatory. This isn’t a poem. I listened to my feelings and tried to translate them into a narrative that had elements of a song. I like the sound of words and the images they create:

Tread softly dear love,
Lest you crush the rose so avidly sought.
How so you question, this way I answer, dampen your ardour.
How your eyes of Autumn fire seek fulfilment, entreat passion,

This is not to be, she walks the lonely shore,

Carrying memories of times past, love that is past.

Leave her be, heal she must.

The rose blooms still upon her cheek, the heart still beats within her breast.

Tread softly dear love,

Lest you crush the rose so avidly sought.

 

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Image: Pixabay

Deep, deep I take us,
Through Earth and rivers of Fire,
Into depthless Oceans, forgotten Realms.

Soft are your words, hard is my Response.
Human man, how you drown in bitter waters, endless tears.
Speak to me of visions loving,
Of echoes of distant trysts,
Not of bloodied revenge, such things are gone and should not be called.

Retribution shall come but not by your hand.

It is not your task, for that is for the gods.

 

Ancient Mariner, why seek revenge on the living?

Your heart blazes with unnatural fire, quench it you must.
Our people call to us, many are their prayers,
Seeking release from the darkness that you bring.
Desist! Return to your watery grave in Poseidon’s realm.
Why become the very thing that seeks you out?

Lift yourself from these sands,
No presence of your former self shall you leave.
Gone is he, into depthless Oceans, forgotten Realms.

No graveyard dust shall you have but pearls of shining.

 

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Image: Pixabay

Tread softly dear love, your time is passing,

Dry your tears lest the depthless Oceans embrace the land.

Hear the song of the birds and the crashing waves upon the shore.

Give thanks for what you had, give thanks for what you shall have.

The Fates have decreed and so it must be, why seek hubris even beyond death?

Embrace the wine dark sea, taste its lips for evermore.

 

Tread softly dear love, your time is passing.

Come, join me into depthless Oceans, forgotten Realms,
In shining halls and forests of green.
Embrace the wine dark sea, taste its lips for evermore.
Tread softly dear love, come into my arms, your time is only beginning.

Disquiet

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He wakens, sends forth visions of disquiet. No words are offered, only cobweb shrouded dreams.

Ancient battles rage, move through forests of memories.  They sear like a brand, Subdue with righteous anger. Punished are we children of the twilight, creatures forged in hunger and envy. 

Enchanter is he. Dragon, forged in fire, weaver of life. Seer and bringer of a Death unremitting. Guardian of treasures none but the illumined can see. That is, only through the gates of Void and Silence.

What is He? The words written on this scroll only serve to deepen the disquiet I’m feeling. I know very well what He is but hoped it would not be so. Creatures like him glide silently through the corridors of our dreams; bringing confused thoughts and unawakened desires. He tests us, touches the veils of awareness. Legends unfurl like the petals of night blooming Hellebore. I see his history and it is not a happy one. Continue reading