Photography Artist: Luis Antonio Santos Abarca
Lost Souls.wma <---- Poetic Reading
Lost Souls
Caprice winds called
into the chambers of yesterday;
Searching for the fevers
of litany’s soul…
A damnation of curses
placed silence upon the lusting wings
of freedom;
Roving the land
upon intrepid trails of glutton’s loveless pledge…
An echo bashed from the depths
of forgotten hollows;
Those dark corridors of impossible dreams…
Broken by the demise of sordid givers;
…Emotion bore no claims to forgiveness
upon bending knee…
She stands like a tower of impetuous questions;
Her hungers for fulfillments to the tempers’
resting in the veils of defiance…
A barren mask of reality
…wearing fiendish desires upon her breast;
Hungry for love in the monish hands of no-one…
Chosen by the passion of her heart’s stolen calling;
She roves the canvas of private thoughts…
Infecting the jewels of prisms greed;
Riding the moments of imprecating freedoms;
The everlasting punishments are calling her name;
To harness her satchel of forbidden temptations;
And bind those lost souls
to the grave of mortuary’s truth…
(Written: October 8th, 2009 7:55 a/m)
with the depths of darkness as my shroud of hidden spies:
Dark Poetry October 2009
In Anguish, In Vengeance, In Menace, In Discordance of Lust…
Or was that supposed to be Love?
Copyright© 2009 Dark Romantic Poetess Victoria L. McColley
Sincerely Bound By Incantations,
Poetess Victoria...The Dark Pestilence of Romance
Archaic Mistress of Caliginous Temptations
Sheila
hugs
fee
well done Vickie.
Edgar Allan Poe, eat your heart out, or maybe our dark temptress will do the honours!
Your name will be called by those that have conquered slimy darkness creeping up on chained captives nostrils as the muse of the Witch urges her to thoughts of depravation in an orchard made of black flowers with thorns!
EDvard, Virgins Protector
John
Vickie, you are so good, ya got me goin.
This write exemplifies a life after deaths earthly abyss.
The imprisoning of soul. A soul out of the rhythm of natural change due to an earthly obsession
that consumed her spirit to a point of transformation, and now trapped inside her own self made abyss, until she realizes the her place in time. A realization bound to eons upon eons accompanied with the pain of what she once was.
Its not nice to screw with mother nature and the father of time as well.
dan
You are the Poetess of all poetess'!
Always,
DeB