Nefelibata- The rants of a cloud-walker

Reaper on hold!

Candles; blown out for the night,
Never wake in without light,
Close your eyes, bid good night,
Blasphemous party-on tonight.
Glistening skin, shards of glass,
Would it cleave it clean or melt in horror,
Tasting the skin's fluoric sorrow.

Tears of Pandora rebirthed in her eyes.
For the red box broke open and spilt its rife,
The God bid its content to his altar,
Yet she disobeyed the God for him,
All the reason not to spare the damsel.
H

e had curls, the invisible God lacked,
More of a reason to turn deaf to the sky,
She Embroidered roses on her gown,
For the wedding with the sharp-nosed lad,
Pleats of sea waves rustled beneath the bust.
The hypnotizing sunset agreed as her trail,
The stairs of heaven envied and wailed.
They bribed the twilight to kidnap the groom,
And ordered the night to hide him in gloom.
The moon overheard the conniving marbles,
She rushed her pace to inform the damsel,
The damsel watched the moon grow,
The pockmarks pronounced more than smoothness,
The greyness reaching out to warn her of worse.
The merciless tease of twilight chillness,
In her groom's absence under the moon,
The damsel shivered, staring at the sky,
It enjoyed her sorrow with thunder and lights.
The heavens have avenged their dignity at last,
How dare she defy heaven's norms
Walking upright, uncowed by the sky?
The rain weighed her gown and heart,
Pulling her down to crawl through the muck,
The curse to love someone more than the heavens,

Would the Embroidered buds bloom?
With her passionate care,
She watered them, pruned them,
Yet they frayed.

Would the autumn leaves hold?
Against the desolate summer's thirst,
She pleaded with them, promised them,
Yet they fell.

Would the stuffed birds remember?
How they sang through the forest,
She reminded them, showed them,
Yet they stared.

Would the twisted ways of the world,
Stop longing for straightness?
She implored them, questioned them,
Yet they zig-zagged.

The hope is an evil; it sucked her soul,
In feverish search for her gone lover,
Tasting the sour wines of life and death,
Not in days; nor months, but in a lifetime,
Disappointing the person with the scythe,
He wore her lover's face to coax her home,
The one in hiding never remembered to return.
S

he remembered him so much that she forgot,
And stared with vacant eyes as worse as death,
The reaper never minded a heartbeat which she cared,
He hugged her close to take her home,
She felt its absence with it her hope,
The frail body fell without the weight of hope,

Even death was appalled to live anymore.

  ★★★★★★★

Ohkay 👋!