Tale of Dark

February 23, 2012
By livingparadox GOLD, Dhaka, Other
livingparadox GOLD, Dhaka, Other
10 articles 0 photos 7 comments

It gawked at her gracelessly; for she was obnoxious and emotionless
But overhaul did her not, as for her it detained a true reflection of beauty.

Oh! How traumatized she was
When it began to convey with exhaust
The saga of her being concealed in dust.
The feeling shove her off
But allow it not to perceive
Running her harsh words thus
“Oh! Thy night! Exile me from your mercy!”

“Threat me if I’m wrong”
The holy night shafts
“But mistress, are you not the solitary night-rider?
Thought you’d be brave and bold
What my eyes do take a glimpse of
You’re afraid of the luck-spider.”

“Do believe I not in favor of luck
It’s just the fee fi foo
Of some magician
Wearisome to make my way stuck.”
Her arrogance foretold the unseen destruction
Yet know did she not
“Oh! Thy night! Exile me from your mercy!”
Her harsh words loped in conceited devotion.

“Threat me if I’m wrong”
The holy night continues
“But mistress, are you not the hopeless light-finder?
Suffocating in darkness
Though distinguish this thy not
I would let you go harmless.

“Oh! Thy night! Exile me from your mercy!
But relay me not on obstacles of scarcity
They are the fake masks of promises
Hiding them from cruel veracity.”

Noticing how helpless she was
As she perused through her own verse
The holy night alleged one last time
To save her from the forbidden curse.

“Oh! Bold rider! It isn’t my mercy
Where you want exile from
It’s the call of time
What made your soul go torn?
Recognize you not
It’s the carriage you’ve trodden on
Leading itself in two ways
One to the forbidden isolation

Another to the blue waves;
Where the sun kisses the edges
Unaware of the dark that exists
Prevailing itself into this dimension
Conquering the innocent notices.”

Flouting her ground
With her own humble arrogance
Begging for one last chance
That was prohibited.
It was her lightened faith
That the dark could see
Trusting on her teardrop
That was dropped from the bleeding tree.
Tired of breathing and living
Crawling from the haunting throne
She spoke at her timid voice
“Oh! Holy night! Take me with you to the birthing dawn…”


The author's comments:
The verses are about the lonesome girl lost into darkness
She tries to find her way out but yet she conceals herself in her arrogance
Tired of her life, she wishes to have a glimpse of light
But she is afraid of asking help from dark; because she feels it only brings harm
Little did she know the dark had so many colors?

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