joi, 4 noiembrie 2010

The Dark Room...

The bed was of the massive form used in the end of the seventeenth century and the curtains of faded silk, heavily trimmed with tarnished gold. There was an air of gloom in the blue tapestry hangings which, with their worn-out graces, curtained the chamber's walls, and gently undulated as the autumnal breeze found its way through the ancient lattice-window, whice patterned and whistled as the air gained entrance. The mirror, turbaned, after the manner of the beggining of the century with a coiffure of murrey-coloured silk and its hundred strage-shaped boxes, providing for the arrangements which had been obsolate for more than fifty years, had an antique, and in so far a melancholy aspect, binding her gaze into the virgin white skies of another world. Black tile completely covered the floor, yielding it an even darker apearance, greaved with blades of slabs. A musty smell engulfed the furniture, carefully carved with delicate roses and abstract victorian motifs. But nothing blaze more brightly and cheerfully than the two large wax candles, which sent their cold gleam through the apartment, creating dark, spooky shadows. Dark crimson pools and moves along the cold and cracked concrete floor of the room, seeping from slits and gashes, incisions and cuts. The blue tapestry mirrors the moon's tinge in the ghastly haze of night. Slight traces of dry twigs reflect their fiery golden bloom in the wall's cracks.
She laid on the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest. Beneath the hollow sky, she lies craving for the warm pain and suffering yield by the rapture of grief. The violin ripples under the bows sweet notch. Shattered pieces of soul flutter, dangling the bloody sorrow away form her, away from her dreams, as her eyes catch the moon's blaze. The night's shadow slowly shift, sliding through the coiling blood. She huddles in her sooth slumber as the night's demon carefully watches her. The vigil that bristles, her ears fear the rustle of his wings, she gasps, muffled by the spider's web. Sink in her reverie, never to be awaken, she grazes in his bitter embrace, clenching his tears in haste. Harshly he strides over the void of tears, binding her to his lulling cold murder. Her summon he can't forbear, as she's dragged to his hell. Agreed of their covenant, he came for atonement.
On the dank meadow, he sinks his lips in her pure flesh, possessed by his vengeful anguish. Lurching, he watches her every move, waiting for her to awake. She slowly whimpers, and wrappes herself in the murrey, almost blood coloured long velvet dress. Smooth as the fiery burgundy velour, her lips slowly murmur in the night. He grasps her hand, as pale as the moon's blue light and dashes her cold body in his coffin of roses.
He took her away from her home, and she could gasp for air, and she could groan in the heath, and she could warily cring his sword's blade, cause all her sadness and feeling, and cry and dispair he'll drown in the coffin which her body will bear.

Listening to LaFee - Lieber Gott
                  Burzum - Dunkelheit
                  Agalloch - In the Shadow of Our Pale Companion
                  Lamb of God - Ashes of the Wake
                  Mucc - Ageha
                  Mucc - Oz
                  Mucc - Sora to Ito
                  Dir en Grey - Ain't Afraid to Die
                  Dir en Grey - Cage
                  Nightwish - Eva
                  Nightwish - Seven Days to the Wolves
Reading - Vladimir Nabokov - Camera Obscura
Drinking - Cherry flavoured tea
Smoking - Blackstones Cherry

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