The Undivine

Past the dark hour, amidst an icy gale,
Through the barren city enveloped in hale,
Upon the ground with snow white,
Gathering all his will and might,
There trudged a lone aged drifter,
His gait uneasy, his pace swifter.
He looked about the deserted street;
Shadows of the past, and apparitions greet.
And he knew he was welcome no longer,
But his will was firm and the pain stronger,
For him to return to the city deserted,
With his body frail yet senses alerted.
For although the demons had descended the skies;
Transformed the city to a ballad of cries.
And although the demons now waited in shadows;
Shifting shapes, like the ashes of meadows.
Still, he had a cause to return
Someone to yearn, fear to unlearn.
He made his way across the desolated street
And entered the place where dirt and body meet.
He passed from one grave to another,
The epitaphs stood chilled by the tyrant weather.
And then he halted, his breathing became slow,
For on one such epitaph there read the word “Flo”
He fell to his knees, kneeling beside his love,
Loathing the city and the heavens above.
Placing a blood rose into tears he burst,
Like a fallen warrior or a desert traveler in thirst.
He cried to the demons, ‘make me your slave,
Make me your dog! But give life to this grave!
I’ll worship you and prostrate to rise no more.
You can curse me, slaughter and abhor.
But make this mound of dust rise
And from it let my Flo arise
To return to me for ever and evermore
And live the days by the serene Eastern shore
Away from this city, and the wind’s roar!’
And behold, there rose a mute melody so intense;
It tore through the skies, and lulled the wind immense
It halted the time and everything whence
Instilling in mortals trepidations defying sense
And the stillness of the universe entire,
As the waterfalls stilled, the moon rose no higher.
In the forests the howls of ghouls retired.
And far away ‘neath the icy waters of the seabed,
A sunken ship lay, it too with this fear inbred.
And when all was still and horror quiet
A hand rose from within the grave, so white.
The grave parted and from it emerged a maiden;
Her figure lean, countenance with sorrow laden.
Her white robe the only thing that dare move,
From the icy ground the rose she did remove.
As the heavens and hells looked on in awe,
As she plucked it briskly and moved without a flaw,
Moved towards the old drifter with grace,
And under the pale moonlight the two embraced.
And holding the old man by his hand,
The two sank into the time’s sand.
Until the times stop and the oceans run dry,
Until the winters become warm and the raven forgets the way to fly
In the grave the two shall side by side lay
Sharing dreams free from toils and dismay.

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9 Comments

Filed under Writings and Poems

9 responses to “The Undivine

  1. Another brilliant piece.. 🙂

  2. Contrary to it’s title, this poem is divine.

  3. This is one of the best i have ever read.Truly engrossing and extremely well written!

  4. vivid imagiation you’ve got there. those fairy-tales we read? somehow the genre is a little different. reminds me of Romeo and Juliet, i dont know why.
    good work!

    • This is far from fairy tales due to its dark material. A bit Poe-ish I’d say. And yes I did try to marry the theme of Love to Horror to bring this piece into existence, so there you have the Rome and Juliet feel.
      I’m glad you like it.

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