The Darkling…


The other night ..
When all the world did’st sleep…
Looketh I into the glass
And saw the shape of myself looking back.

With face half lit … and half in shade
Wandered I deeper into the glade.


At first naught strange appeareth to my eye
But then seemed I
To see the surface ripple..
Be that a gleam within the eye
That resteth on the shadow side.?.


And looking deeper
Flesh once fair doth wither and decay…
See I myself
Too soon as one within the grave…

Then from my lips fell
In almost dread…
(To see myself so very dead…)

“What a foul thing thou art..”

And was a feared
Lest such a thing
In truth be of myself a part

The eye fell lower
On the cheek
Becoming large and dark…

It looked at me and I looked back
Locked we our stares
And in that cold unblinking eye
Felt i…
No compassion or conception of love

It seemeth not surprised to find me there..
But more accepted that it was so..

The darkling preened itself
And then threw back its head
As if a’ howling at the moon
And laughed.. as though at some huge joke..


It laughed but with a laugh that chilled..
There was no kindness in the eye wherein
I found myself regarded by..

And then as quickly as it came
It left
And where it once had been there was a mist..

And so returned I…
Into the world of men where such things do not exist..


These words perchance seem strangely writ
But seemed to me the voice doth fit..
That which to you they doth relate..

Of the Darklings tale..

Trapeze

Babette looks down at the crowd of cheering faces…and although her ego loves the adoration.. she cant help but notice the resemblance between them and a large pack of hungry animals..

“Poof.”. … she says under her breath..
“I vil not geev them ze plaizir..”

She looks down at her costume admiring her womanly curves.. and after making sure it has not revealed too much.. steps out onto the wire..

A gasp of expectation is heard from the crowd below..

Far below…In the center she can see the Baron thoroughly enjoying his role as ring master.. His eyes gleam back with approval..

She isn’t afraid.. she knows that if she slips he will catch her long before she hits the ground..

But despite that comforting thought.. her parasol wavers a little.. as she steps out onto the long.. thin.. wire..

Once or twice she ducks… as something dark swoops over head… and then slowly straightens and continues along the wire….

At the other end of it there appears to be a door.. but she notices that with each step the wire seems to lengthen.. and so begins to understand that there is no end… and that what is being asked of her is something more..

Letting go of reality she steps off into space.. and the roar of the circus fades away..

And as she turns to look at the parasol in her hand she see’s it is the Barons hand..

“Where are we going? “ She asks…
“To the end…” he replies…

“And then?”

“Why mon cherie “ … says he with a smile…”we begin again..”