Category: Writers Block
One velvet stroke across a faded note, a curve to complete the scene.
A tracery of red for words unsaid, artful imagination -- till now -- unseen.
With pen in hand and scouring sand, she'll write her life in moment's passing.
With dripping ink a shade of pink, recount the sorrows -- till now -- amassing.
"With pen I write these final lines,
Bind them to these pages like forest vines,
Etch them upon pages once pure and white,
Who are now my only inheritance in this twilight.
To you who are living: I speak,
And in your memory I seek
Some respite or vitality,
Which in life was not granted me.
My name is Daisy and nothing more,
No maiden name -- now or before.
I go to final rest in this cheerless bed,
Free from the want of breath and bread.
My health is fading, that I know,
And with it, my wits shall follow.
Before that point, I'll leave some part of me,
To hopefully leave some imprint upon your memory."
On hospital bed, suffused by dread, painting her life with delicate curves;
Ailing health and plunging wealth, she writes the sorrows no mortal deserves.
Papyrus ream with leather seam, a diary for that beloved flower.
Artful words of pain shall she hence remain, as death comes to ravenous devour.
"My parents are gone, victims of war,
They've preceded me to that bless'd shore.
Struck down by arrows from Apollo's bow:
Horrid plague and treacherous woe.
I've no lover, he's lost to cancerous doom,
And now he waits for me beyond that veil of gloom.
Dianna claimed him for her own,
Soon after he wed me in my bridal gown.
Of my siblings I know very little,
Bound to this bed and in this hospital.
They too are dying, and what can I do
But hope to meet them beyond that flowing river too?
My sons are lost, brave though they were,
Such was the risk of a queen's fighting soldier.
Nameless casualties in some foreign land,
Who are fallen by Aries' murderous hand."
Alone in lying, companionless dying, she begins to struggle with failing breath.
Gasping moans and quiet groans, she draws ever nigh to that veil of death.
Wavering letters and quivering feather, her hand begins to lose its strength.
Shaking fist on quivering wrist, finding it hard to write in any length.
"I leave you only this to ponder,
And in the depths of your heart to aimless wander:
My name is Daisy, or had I already said so.
Either way, remember my name and sorrow.
I was born in Village Cortezon,
Where the sun is hot and the days there long.
I have three brothers, one sister alone,
Four siblings we'll remain, when all is done.
I've no riches nor fame to leave behind,
No fortune to corrupt the greedy of mind.
I have but one treasure, a gift of my lover's choice,
Its hiding place I shall now give voice.
I tell you not so you may gain riches from its discovery,
But so that you might keep me better in your memory.
For what have I left to care of riches and things of that sort,
When I am quickly hastening to that eternal resort?"
The lines grow light, giving way to pages white, till the script ends in a sharp arc;
Her strength is gone, her soul moved on, no more words to hark.
Rigidly tensing, death now commencing, she fails to tell of her final gift;
Words unwritten, thoughts unbidden, treasure lost as pen fails to lift.
Lifeless and cold, ragged and old, the doctors find her bereft of life's embrace.
On bed of leaves that the priestly weaves, she is born to her resting place.
Velvet strokes across a ream of notes, the book is placed by her -- unread.
Words written in vane, thankless toiling through pain, her memory's lost with words unsaid.
"My name is Daisy, and nothing more,
No impression left ere reaching that immortal shore.
No continuation for words unheeded,
No growth for the Daisy unseeded.
My flesh lays rotting in some shallow grave of dirt,
The body freed now from its hardship and hurt.
But my spirit lingers unsure above the remains,
Seeking still to be remembered, if only in name.
My name was Daisy, and nothing more,
A whisper of beauty in the life before.
My name was Daisy, and as the flower fades,
I surrender that past to eternity in Hades.
wow....it made me very sad. I don't know if that's what you were going for, but I was sad after reading this.
wow....it made me very sad. I don't know if that's what you were going for, but I was sad after reading this.
What can I say dearest Brother Wraith, except to Thee, already is known the patterned code *smile
wow!