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..