scarlet pain
11-04-2007, 07:05 AM
Please read and post a critic.
A slippery moist path
Of pitch black echoes,
The cold touch beneath
Icy feet that walks the hollow.
Two trembling hands touch-
Touch the door- ancient,
Worn with passing age;
Still elegant, divine yet dreary.
The large bronze knocker
Serpent heads coiled along,
Slightly touching the edges
With thousands of locked queries.
The door opens like-
Like a gust of wind,
Creaking and revolting,
Slowly revealing the other side!
As frozen, chilling winter,
Gloom hits the soul—
Sucking all pleasures at heart,
Yet a silent smile remains.
There on the other side,
A place of passion stands,
With its wearing glory –
Holding the breeze of past.
Angels standing on both sides,
In curved-cold stone,
Heartless, lifeless but pure,
And a moon-shine glow flickers.
Vines of wild rose;
Holding the palace,
With scarlet love-
Of their glowing heart.
Walking further through—
Through the gardens glorious;
Once blooming in valiant colours
Now destroyed and devoured in vain!
And there lay in silence
A pond—green, dark and cold
Restless, it tries to reflect,
The white-blue, bright sunny sky.
Seems like, souls of the past
Locked in chains,
Choked to certain death,
Doomed below this green blood.
At last the feet rest,
Sitting by the pond-
In utter silence, disturbs—
The surface in thousand years!
And suddenly the overcast head—
Clears, the eyes open,
The mind sighs and lament-
A forsaken dream in lost eternity.
A slippery moist path
Of pitch black echoes,
The cold touch beneath
Icy feet that walks the hollow.
Two trembling hands touch-
Touch the door- ancient,
Worn with passing age;
Still elegant, divine yet dreary.
The large bronze knocker
Serpent heads coiled along,
Slightly touching the edges
With thousands of locked queries.
The door opens like-
Like a gust of wind,
Creaking and revolting,
Slowly revealing the other side!
As frozen, chilling winter,
Gloom hits the soul—
Sucking all pleasures at heart,
Yet a silent smile remains.
There on the other side,
A place of passion stands,
With its wearing glory –
Holding the breeze of past.
Angels standing on both sides,
In curved-cold stone,
Heartless, lifeless but pure,
And a moon-shine glow flickers.
Vines of wild rose;
Holding the palace,
With scarlet love-
Of their glowing heart.
Walking further through—
Through the gardens glorious;
Once blooming in valiant colours
Now destroyed and devoured in vain!
And there lay in silence
A pond—green, dark and cold
Restless, it tries to reflect,
The white-blue, bright sunny sky.
Seems like, souls of the past
Locked in chains,
Choked to certain death,
Doomed below this green blood.
At last the feet rest,
Sitting by the pond-
In utter silence, disturbs—
The surface in thousand years!
And suddenly the overcast head—
Clears, the eyes open,
The mind sighs and lament-
A forsaken dream in lost eternity.