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Enya “Dark Sky Island”
The snowflakes fell
Each frozen tear released stained red
Within the winter bones she bled
While fierce winds circled overhead
Her cuirass pierced by death’s lament
The end, her friend, was drawing near
Each frozen tear aflame this day
As dawning rays of night then sped
The blight had hit her village hard
Raped and pillaged all she loved
As above, so below bellowed
Suddenly, her wild eyes mellowed
Hell had frozen over to elaborate her plight
Yet, she was no mute acolyte
Suffering in silence
Violently subjected to unkind deed and perspective
Within the winter bones she bled
The end, her friend, lent air despaired
Declared intention less than charmed
To see her final breath disarmed
Her weeping palms no psalm undressed
No sorrow owed of penance blest
For this was no stigmata
Unacquainted martyrdom
Black Dahlia arose
Composed a sweeping symphony
At midnight’s hour of harm
Burnt amber sun had come undone
Of golden tone the rivers run
Midst enfilade of daylight reinvention
The frosted moon, ne’er gone too soon
In marmalade and ash was spun
Its capture felt of rapture strewn
Anchored in amenable detention
The snowflakes fell
Each frozen tear exhumed stained red and bled for two
Her welling eyes wore telling sigh
Embellished in reflection
Undilated hate, want, waste, depression
The hellish pains she masqueraded
Still remained in swoopstake
Yet, come what way
Her dying day nowise harsh fate persuaded
The soil beneath her dainty feet
Had softened in rejoice
Of cracks in every silence bled
To lend address her voice
For she was seen
In the between
Betwixt the twisting longleaf trees
The grief she felt no less pronounced
Yet, death’s lament no cleft announced
Parting breath had been bled out
On blessèd turf of keen devout
The end, her friend felt less impressed
With lungs, she sung
She screamed
She shouted
“Have at you!”
Then bade adieu
To skin within which flowers bloomed
Black Dahlia arose
From throes of spoiling mortal coil’s dispose
Chose each petal to unfurl
Expose the kiss of lips stripped curl
While, all about
The snowflakes fell
To tell the tale of tears stained red, in kind
“No end!”
Her newfound friend declared
Black Dahlia then sighed.
Richard Charles Stevens
Keeper of The Crimson Quill
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We all feel this way at times. But there is love there. Reach out. There’s a hand extended, albeit across the cyber verse
We all go through this.
We all know hurt, pain, personal anguish, the feeling of being lost.
We understand more than you realize
It is up to us to fix each other where our families fall flat
You must Reach out
We don’t need great big neon signs
Just ask,
I am here Always
I’m a DM, a tweet, a fb msg a skype call away
No matter how busy my day I will stop whatever I am doing and make time for you or anyone else who needs it.
I may not be right in front of you in the physical form but it does not mean I love any less.
Forever & Always
xoxo
YØU are B£AUTIFUL & BRILLIANT. I feel you, truly I do dearest Keeper. Xoxo HUGS TIGHT! MACHETES UP ♠
Are you worthy of continuation? The answer is hell fucking yeah!! I don’t usually curse dearest keeper but I just have to say that you have no idea what you mean to us! You are the brilliant shining soul I always wanted to be and your beautiful mind is rampant with talent.
The way you bleed just fills my soul and makes me feel at home! If others can’t see this in you, I feel sorry for them, really I do! Everyone has family that don’t understand them and troubles are always around the corner but dearest keeper you have love from me and all of us, and LOVE and light conquers all! Just hold on to all this love, let it seep into you and let it give u strength! Wish I could give u hugs so I’m sending u virtual hugs and kisses tonight! I hope I helped in some small way to make u feel a little better! My heart is yours always!
Hang in there buddy boy, you know we are all here, as we’ve always been & always will be
Alive most certainly is a start..
I’d like to introduce myself…. I’m the black sheep of the family…Managed to make a perfectly acceptable life. Again, I AM a good person….Something I’ve observed, at least regarding my mum who turned 65 yesterday, although I love her dearly, she has morphed into the most sour crabapple on the tree. She is not in good health, but instead of living each day to its fullest potential, she appears to grasp comfort in bitching about it……Stay strong. “We” need to keep you around <3 always…..
💜 Wish I had been there back then. Glad I am here now…..No more 💜💜💜