'I'm half sick of shadows,' she said

Suddenly sadness embraces,
this melancholy absence
settles like a shroud,
silencing me as an eclipsing friend
strikes from the shadows.

This palpable isolation,
of reactive cores invisibly
revealed as blinding radiation,
not simply a frowning countenance
more direct like slashing retrogress.

What can I remove,
when already a stripped offering
on the cool lapis block of indifference.
I lower the pulse
of this racing heart, to murmur.

Is this the newness
you wish to hear echoing
in the vast canyons of bottomless depth,
these farewells of effected affection
colliding like a mirror, splintered.


~*

 

You needn't be concerned. She's fine. Be not eager to catch the promises. Fear not the curses. Abide. Endure.

 

Weaving beyond the veil,
she can't help but want to rent
and step into the swirling dance.

 

[What can I remove,
when already a stripped offering
on the cool lapis block of indifference.
I lower the pulse
of this racing heart, to murmur.]

Stunning & fresh, hurting too.

 

I found this beautiful and intriguing. I love the images and ideas, and your ending is effortless and perfect.

 

Thank you both, I'm a loss for additional words at the moment.

 

yea thanks

 

ur welcome

 

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colors gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.

And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadow of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot…

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror’s magic sights,
For often through the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music went to Camelot;
Or when the Mood was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed.
“I am half sick of Shadows,’ said
The Lady of Shalott.

And down the river’s dime expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance
Seeing all his own mischance
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
Shadow loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott
~ Lord Tennyson

 

"I am Half Sick of Shadows said the Lady of Shallot"

 

Thank you both for these esteemed art works.
*bows to the grace of thee*

 

Summer Hymns did a song called `Half Sick Of Shadows`.

 

I would love to hear it.


*

 

that was mood altering syl,, excelent
love that painting nesta posted, i so know that moment of reflection at work, who did that one?