a bottle.
her heart.
they have something in common.
a bottle cages something inside,
holds it.
her heart cages the pain,
the sadness, the ink.
ink of black lies, betrayal,
regret, the overwhelming thoughts.
it bottles everything and anything,
until...
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bliven were now the scions three, girdled wyth crimson and hissing; they dwellan neath the burnt fury hoaxing thy eye open, burning murk; floating lyft. those milled the cuvent of begen attor and blod; the cuvent hast the lamia. dyre, ajar thy gates; unveil the misterie far deep. — luce.
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in simple words: the descendants were left now, surrounded by the vampires and the serpents; they lived beneath the burnt sun. (the night) deceiving the naive human eyes, burning darkness; floating sky. they formed tho coven of both, the vampires and the serpents; the coven was named as lamia. (now) dear, open the gates; unveil the mysteries hiding in depth.
i wrote this a year ago. this piece tells a story about the lamia. lamia was a community i was working on. due to some circumstances, i was never able to open the community, but i had this piece left, so i decided to publish it here.
at that time, i read many old english poems and was inspired to write one (especially about vampires), grabbing the opportunity to write something for my community, i came up with this.
it is a simple poem, but I had fun writing it and that's what matters the most :⟩
