`___mellisais productions-

Thursday, March 30, 2006

the ancient mirror.
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this is supposed to be a creepy and mysterious poem.x).by MELz.

Down the hallway,across the room,
Fills the silence,assuming the gloom.
Walk down the aisle,windows await,
Firmament bestowing a lonely old blade,
idling by the doorway,shimmer and spate,
Flourishing into the stillness of the breathless vapour.

fading reflections,absorbing the opaque spirit,gazing upon,
splashed blood onto the borders and the frames,
a ghostly flavour lingers and disdains;
the pungency of the splendour of this marquise pride,
Yet rays dissolve,shadows contaminating the vain,
Marrow of the faint,
revealed;

Admire the beauty,the oneness of a flawless art,
Its fine disgrace of the onus of pain,carving and weeping,
Thin lines plunder rights and spaces,never quivering away,
An old friend standing there,yet never beaming,expressionless,
mysterious identities scrawled with such grip,smudged with such care,
Esteem gets undone,so many reasons to frown,
Drown in the confusion;

camouflaging within the unseen,the souls of calamity,
an omen of bleakness,spontaneity tried once,twice,unwittingly,
eerie sounds of the night,owls blaring,and the moon alas;
once bitter,twice shy,hiding behind clouds of haze,
Afraid to condone the tardiness of rejection,
and that stinging refreshment,it blinds and it restores,
A desire for her place,her very own,none the least;

A crow with polished,ruffled up feathers,
it moves with such poise,yet inside it withers,
Slowly it needs,it craves,it ponders,
yet all a twisted skein of lies it deceives.
It barely croaks a sound,yet rings so clear,undefined,
Its genuity,no one doubts,for it's just a blur.
With no outlines,and all but vague candles remain.
lights are switched off;

Telephone cords slashed with such perfection,
all imperfections lie in the thunderstorms,and the tides,
no answer,no one's there,the echo banters,an evil air evades,
a cold,spine-tingling,shivering nightmare goes past,
Touches the skin with barely a sound,whispering its intentions so clear,
Sarcastic realities ring true,only a worthless antique on display,
No rust,no dust,not a single speck of trust,
Oh,irresistible temptations;

In the past of the unknown,some make-up she smothered,
and the mirror so undaunted;
Crimson lips,sprouty eyelashes,
Blusher sparkles through,a void peach of tinged red,
She picks out a dress,it stuns,
With maroon an absolute onanism,cardinal stripes of decor,
The most beautiful lady,looking into that mirror,it was her very night,
The night she unknowingly died.

Pale,with glistening pearls,
Wolves howl,hyenas blare their fanciest,
Smooth surface,it compares to silk,
Glows with such lustre,yet bores with such delight,
Uncanny the corners,split images start to form,
Illusions of an incomplete image,they cry and they wail,
Yet no one's there,no one knows,
Objects start to quiver,the mirror starts to shake,
But no one's there;

The glass shards break apart,they clatter onto the ground,
Cracking and sputtering of unsure groans and voices,
Yet the mirror still stands,undaunted and unafeared,
a cold,spine-tingling,shivering nightmare goes past,
Touches the skin with barely a sound,whispering its intentions so clear,
Echoes get louder and increases,so gradually,so mysteriously,
idling by the doorway,shimmer and spate,
Flourishing into the stillness of the breathless vapour of late,

The doors start to open,yet it soon shuts again,
Hundreds of decades passed,yet it's still the same old game,
Footprints engraved on the walls of the distaste,
As a cold,spine-tingling,shivering nightmare goes past,
Touches the skin with barely a sound,whispering its intentions so clear,
Illusions of an incomplete image,they cry and they wail,
Flourishing into the stillness of the breathless vapour,

The most beautiful lady,looking into that mirror,it was her very night,
The night she unknowingly died.

1:45 PM