Over aeons of time I have lingered helpless in utter silence.
My once perfect beauty now transformed to unforgiving dust.
My lush pink satin shroud consumed by ravenous vermin
Decayed by time, I lie
Cold and alone in my cruel stone coffin.
I know not, if ever, the century of my awakening.
What is time when enshrouded in this void of darkness?
Is freedom to be a dream?
No shaft of silver moonlight falls across my breast.
No footsteps do I hear.
Betrayed by time, betrayed by misplaced passion.
Promises that failed to bloom when night transcended day.
Never was it meant to be this way.
I hear my kin.
They beckon from beyond the grave.
Yet never once the sound of scraping stone.
Never once has moonlight sought me out.
Never will I taste the blood rose on my tongue.
No awakening by a human soul.
What cruel hand of fate has wrenched from me the rose?
And from my fingers stealthily plucked the sacred bloom?
Somewhere afar a heart beats yet – is it mine?
Somewhere afar a lone soul calls.
So very far away across an aeon of time.
What is time when I have lingered long so cold and helpless?
Silence and dust and vermin are all I know.
Under dark, damp earth I lay,
Encased in a tomb of unforgiving stone,
Set in a crypt of intricately carved angelic realms.
Wrought iron cast solidly upon its thresh hold.
No shaft of moonlight on my breast divine.
No savour with the sweet flower of life
Just in my breast a wooden stake,
To tell a tale.
My heart pierced
My soul taken
My cry unheard
The shadow of the blood rose
Bleeds eternally upon my wretched soul.