boudoir, candelabra, castle, confinement, ghost, gravity, isolation, light, love, the red room
In my self-imposed solitary confinement at the castle,
I roam the many halls and corridors
and stop by the Red Room
Do I dare enter her chambers for the first time
ever since she left?
Autumn has arrived though it doesn’t feel so,
the night is tender and tempting.
I unlock the door,
throw open the windows
and light the tapers on the candelabra
scattered around her boudoir.
Crimson velvet drapes sway in the fresh breeze,
the floral fragrance of her perfume still lingers in the air,
the candles flicker and cast their light
upon the guild-framed paintings on the red walls.
Portraits come to life,
their gazes follow me,
the lips curl into a smile, or a sneer,
they talk without speaking,
an organ plays in the background,
I pause by her picture, allured by her beauty,
She walks out of the frame and takes my hand,
Into the eternal night, she says,
her eyes are magnets that pull me in like gravity.
This is the love I have been yearning for,
I’m a moth around her glow
I know I will burn, yet I ache for her radiance.
She becomes the light,
I burn and feel no pain,
I rise and become a ghost, a ghost of myself.
We leave the Red Room and venture into the darkness,
An owl sings a song, night birds join the chorus,
they chant a tune in a strange language,
I do not know the melody, but I know the words,
Slave to the light, I drift in the air,
and follow her
Love and gravity are conflicting,
yet they are the same.
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