The Healing

How wild a spectacle this cryptic night,
A burnt out soul in darkness lies
Wounded by woeful words I told,
Sharp and biting with mortal cold -
Had I been guided by immemorial skies,
No gentle heart would've cried tonight;
Yet, god of Love meant no mortal pain,
But this soul was turned to a shred.
With no less bitter, rather more,
I did open that infernal door:
Hellish mind to its utmost torment spread,
And my soul called the heart in vain.
The quick tongue the inner virtue defiled
Making remorse the king of my soul,
A king hungry with daring appetite:
To swallow my Self on this cryptic night;
He, my worthy title of human stole
And had Anger my affection beguiled.
In the whirlwind of chaotic sensations
Came forth a herald of peace:
Petals fell like rain down on the sand
And I knelt and took some with my hand;
Tears overflowed and couldn't cease
Till the head turned to arcane constellations.
Beauty and affliction came tonight,
And a puzzled soul in darkness lies
Wounded by woeful words I told,
Soothed by views and petals I hold -
I have been guided by immemorial skies
To learn about myself this cryptic night...

Lullaby in the Netherworld

The chosen hour brought tremor and trepidation,
He came to throw me in -
And as I was shaking from the eerie preparation,
I drowned more within;
My spirit clings, while dragged deep underground
To the darkest pit of sin;
As my soul is forsaken from sight and sound
I'm envenomed by his sly grin.

I stir, I wallow, I move and I know not how!
My heart lapses a bitter groan,
For a sweet lullaby is controlling me now
Luring me into the unknown!
The dank air was heavy, by the cold, cold lake
Enveloped by blackened stone,
And no voice answers the screams I make,
But hark! I'm not alone.

I ran towards the lake, stopped by my heavy breath,
The lullaby knew my plight,
And called me forward, forward into death;
But I felt its song was bright!
And fervorous hope boiled hard in my head -
I fell into its rays of white:
And its heavenly radiance upon me shed,
By my Lady's lantern light.

There, by the dank fumes of the poisonous lake
It's failing this heart of mine -
There, by my Lady's side, all the calls I make
Shows my steady decline.
Yet, when Her charming calm stopped my plea,
I beheld the brightest sign,
And I knew it wasn't death dealt upon me,
But life gifted to this heart of mine.

My weary eyes awoke to a ghost-like face,
And my Lady gently sings!
Her eyes made of wonder and utmost grace,
Unto which my heart still clings:
Her lullaby kindled my hope to the brightest fire,
Like an angel without wings,
And her persistence and hope I utterly admire
Brought me back among the living things.