Sta.sh
In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti
My dear heart,
Forlorn have I found myself drifting between Scylla and Charybdis, ne'er a comforting pasture on which I may reside myself and my lonely wearisome soul, set adrift onward to the path of no return... I ache inside, so blistered is my plight, dearest, that I am unable to describe this gnawing thorn edging its way through my already ruptured spine - Alas, I am unable to fight it no longer.
Suffice to say my love, you would have out grown me, for I was always in your eyes a cynical old Bard, constantly badgering you with praise o'er your finesse and elegance; alas, my heart, my dear heart, I am unable to change - once the withered leaves of autumn have become senescent, they cannot become their former selves. Such am I, a fallen leaf of autumn, waiting by the forest shunned by the moonlit sky. Verily, oh dearest bird of paradise, how you would love these serene constellations that decorate the night-time, much as you would like to be led to the heavens upon the wings of an angel. Alas, I am unable, for I am lost within the catacombs of my own ailing existence, where echoes of sorrow boom in solemn contemplation, reminding of a bond far more thicker than blood and water. I am surrounded by a glow of fireflies and phosphorescent insects of varying degrees and forms, illuminating a beautiful specter that you, I pity, are missing.
Yes, my dear heart, I am awaiting by the pastures, where the birds make their songs and the raptures of the poets whisper their fragile sonnets in hushed tones - do you recall them, those poets? Ah, I'm sure you do; wasn't it on this very night, when we went away to the ancients... stood I by an ancient formation, and recited to thee a poem. A simple poem, no doubt, but a work of genuine admiration in your eyes; Alas, I was unable to find it... till now.
Breathe but my Name
Breath but my name, and my name solely;
As the winds blow the spring leaves aloft,
And shine the hearse of disheartening disarray
While daylight still lies; as the night time falls
And none are near the way to hear me say
"Breathe but my name, thine heart's unrest will be at bay"
Breathe, forlorn heart, breathe but my name;
In the nighttime by the light of the moon,
While the wolves howl, and owls hoot and swoon
and the nightingale sings for the knights, in gale's spring;
the drapery for the heart in dismay
Whence the moonlit night enshrines I say, I pray
"Breathe but my name, thine heart's unrest will be at bay"
Breathe but my name, before dawn shines once more
And spreads Helios' light, as light dawns once more
the new day, the end of the darkness, the night
while spring sheds a heartened tear, a tear shed once before
the whiteness of winter ends, like spring ending once more
Breathe, breathe but my name, forever and ever more
Breathe and lisp my name my love; how oft the sun shines
While the temple tolls the bells before the day tells its toll
And the hymns are heard while nature recites tales untold
And the mountains illuminate the memory of the Elder's fine
scrolls, scrolls illuminating the hymn recited in silent prayer
to the heavens, a soliloquy, an elegy, you feel what I say:
"Breathe, breathe but my name; Carpe Diem! Seize the Day!"
Surely, my love, we had been two poor souls lost in each other's grace... unable to see for our own selves how times have changed us over the years... perpetually I would find myself hopelessly lost, and with the withering parched eyes burned red with sorrow, I would dry my tears with cloth emblazoned with your name.
My love, if I were to hold even the brightest of Suns to be with thee, I would gladly do so; if I could dream a beautiful dream, wherein I am with you, my sincerest wishes would be fulfilled... Just to be back with thee...
I wish you had not gone... Verily, I wish you had not gone... but alas, as I conclude these qualms, I recount to my mind's eye your work which I had preserved with fastidiousness, for it was an Ottoman jewel - rare beyond words... I find myself bemused, that your words strike a chord in how I desire to end this letter to you.
I Wait For You
Many a lone night, waiting for the morn
I would moan and groan in vain
Lo, my dear heart, this poet was forlorn
for the toil of his heart's disdain
Crush me by the consecrated altar
And hold high my vampire heart
For I became null and void on the sepulcher
When I was broken into parts
Leave me and my mind, mon cher
and let me be on my way
I awaken only for a tormenting decree
That hopes I will live today
Let me awaken from my stupor
And cherish the gazing sun
Oh good prince, your being is my torpor
bleeding me dry... left broken, undone
Carry me, let us leave the weight of the world
And gone we shall be
To Paradise, where the spirits unfurled
There will reside you and me
For you are the dusk and its embrace
That will take me, lost in a haze
And when we will depart, oh my dear heart
My bleeding heart will be yours always...
My bleeding heart will be yours, always...
farewell, my dearest heart
vale tibi dico,
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merci beaucoup, mon ami!
merci, mon ami!
welcome! 
I do not like the word Verily in the next paragraph. It seems too trivially used. In the first paragraph you have sold me on the language. I find it very easy to switch my mind into the mindset of older english styles, but here verily just seems too flippantly added and not in keeping with the tone.
I would have liked for there to be a break between sentences "they cannot become their former selves. Such am I. A fallen leaf of autumn..." personally and again between Orion's belt and the next thought "I see Orpheus". To me they are seperate thoughts.
I like the 'thicker than blood AND water". Clever.
"I am surrounded by a glow of fireflies and phosphorescent insects of varying degrees and forms, illuminating a beautiful specter that you, I pity, are missing." I LOVE this, don't get me wrong this is just spectacular, but I would have loved it even more if you'd just said "a glow of phosphorescent insects of varying degrees" because a firefly would be included in that. Thats just my personal taste though.
Your prose here is absolutely astounding, and I only picked out a few minor issues with punctuation and one word you used, other than that it reminded me (STRONGLY) of Shakespeare. and from me, that is HIGH praise indeed.
I read the prose seperately and then went back to read the poetry as I do not like to switch back and forth, I do this with books too so i hope you aren't offended, my mind just takes the information and adds it in at the point when it was intended by the author to be read.
Poetry wise, I am hard to please. I very rarely like rhyming poetry because I too often see people sacrificing the meaning so that they can use words that rhyme and for ME thats not what I believe poetry should be about... but there are millions of people who disagree with me.
The poetry seemed in keeping with the characters and the story although A December Night was mostly written in modern english, but I let it slide because rhyming + old english would be a mighty feat haha. You still kept to the essence of old english, the *way* they talk if not the exact language, so it still felt genuine.
I liked I Wait For You much more, perhaps because it spoke directly about the emotions rather than the events which appealed to me easier (as an emotional poet myself).
There was a lot of technical, historical, well researched nuggets slipped in, which is a sign of commitment to a piece. I noticed them and appreciated them.
I also liked the latin thrown in. Throughout your characters were consistent and multi dimensional, I can't fault them, and characters are notoriously hard to pin down. xD Well done!
The use of “dreamt a beautiful dream” send me reliving all the other poems in which you used a similar phrase “I dreamt a dream, a beautiful dream, a dream I dreamt before”.
I like it, I somehow identify you as an artist with certain phrases and ideas and it works perfectly well in this poem.
The choice of words is outstanding and what can I say.. I’m a sucker for mythological references in both poems and stories.
The first poem “A December Night” had a more gracious flow compared to “I wait for you”
But it also had a more bleeding heart romantic touch to it, which I feel you did aim for as it being a dedication/ode to the person he loves?
The last poem “I wait for you” is less forced in my honest opinion though has a more abrupt flow, the rhyme scheme is at times missing, but it doesn’t bother me.
However what does bother me is the small font – not that I’m blind or anything but a little bit bigger would be easier on the eyes.
All by all a very interesting poem/story with its own up’s and down’s but they work incredibly well together.
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