A lone piano setting
a mornful canvas
a single star invoking a
childs innermost wishes,
Joyus moments are few
sullen skies fill the plain
of a writers landscape
words dawn the paper
that tell a story of
dismay and joy,
A spiders web weaves
thee a tale,
twisted and splended in its
mystery, its untimely
beauty and majesty
Forgiven shall be be the text
what shall be shall be
within each text lies its
very own forgotten truth
Caring not, a gentle caress
of thee's bridal gown,
upon thy pale skin
caring much, a tender kiss
upon ones reddened lips
Awaken never to the light
beyond the skyline bounderies,
for in being blind,
thee develops a horrific sense
of fear
Certin instruments send
chills down thee's spine
setting a pace one's heart
beats,
steady and fast like a
foxes eyes
Rage is but a short relapse
of anger and yet in its
defining moment create
scar tissue that shall
never heal
A pale scene I lay before
you, for light no longer
penetrates these iron walls
a fair bride,
her young husband,
a golden vial filled with
pretty posin to soothe
an aching heart
It is in this aching heart
that lies all that will satisfy
ones imaganation
Bring fire into these waking
dreams and you shall let
ablaze a firestorm of desparation
and fear
As I see, for I did not
want nor desire to be a pale bride,
dressed in gown,
dead upon a bed of white roses
and it has become my very own
sancutary
one from which I cannot escape,
one from which tears cannot free
A pale beauty and a pale rose,
in wedding gown,
dead upon a bed of white roses
(ALL poetry Copyright Pale Kurayamino)