The Fury

Midst waves of mute dejection...crawl upon malicious spines of dull fury...rage
burning in silence sought by my own wretched heart...born from the ruinous passage
of time...the truth of loss hurls its clenched fists at the fragile strands of
abandoned faith...You are the night...come forth in endless rapture...you are the
night...to sheild thy fallen crest...entangled in the scented tresses of their
desireable women...soft graceful eidolons of light -- if only they were more than
fleeting ghosts...apparitions faded by time and dust...stirring in dark fields of
rememberance where tristful scenes of long departed loves are endlessly
portrayed...one must seize each memory with careful hands kept hidden...and like
rare, exotic flowers beheld by none...clutch them tightly to thy disconsolate heart
and remember each one...for this pain shall soon pass...the soulblight's slow
destruction of what is most precious...of what we hold closest to our impassioned
souls...like the vacant sigh of a thousand dying dreams...you are the night...a
tapestry of light...a nihility of shifting emotions...coalesce into patterned,
empty tears...you depart (from me) and I feel nothing.