Sarah [part 1] Poem by Lum Chabot

Peoples rise and fall;
Like the ebbing tide of the ocean;
Yet She among sirens remains;
Ne’er experiencing woeful disdain;
Whilst avoiding the commotion;
I listen for Her call.

Her wondrous song;
Flowing o’er the winds;
Finally finding my ears;
Destroying all my fears;
Forgiving of all my sins;
I wish not to prolong…

For the sirens are fair;
More so than divine Gods;
Their eyes pools of passion;
Fortunately Her’s fastened;
On me, as I ask, she nods…
The winds billow Her hair.

She reigns holy in this place;
That smells of incense burning… myrrh;
She beckons me to follow and;
I shant not, too bereft to stand;
Waiting, ever waiting for Her;
I gently welcome siren’s embrace.

We lay for awhile, ‘twixt dead leaves guiled
They hid the shared smiles, earth defiled,
And Gods came and took Her away from me!

I slipped into pitch of night;
And schemed up b****** plans anew;
The memoirs of Her, so pristine and pure;
To see Her again, my infinite cure;
Sitting on the parapets coming unglued;
For I’ve died, been born, absent of light.

Genocidal, suicidal thoughts deprave my mind;
Against all those non-nymph curs;
Love second to hate for all those who wait;
And detest my jet black heart, the gate;
Into my soul, yet it’s all a blur,
The prideful angels left far behind…

My actions mimic those of a De Rais;
Castrating the innocent;
And guilty alike, and in the spite;
Of pleas, taking away their rights;
To life and light, souls in descent;
Throughout the pit of Satan, in pain.

She ascended to archangel heights;
And slowly through the hierarchy;
Past multiple tiers, abstained my dear;
From unjustified tears, for me She fears;
That I’ve fallyn to the oligarchy;
And will not live through the Reich of night;

My wretchéd heart retches in the dark
After burning in the fire,
The dryads’ bane, heads hung in shame
As the ashes scattered to the wind.

The morbidity continued;
For a rather long duration;
I wallowed in my self-sorrow;
Ne’er wishing the dreaded day, tomorrow;
World waste its light on me, no tribulation;
Since my passing, my heart’s still with you.

I composed dirges;
Laments and hymns for you;
Psalms to make the hesperides cry;
To see the poison flooding my eyes;
The sanguine liquid, clouding my view;
Ever hiding thoughts of purges…

The alseid attempted to frighten me;
Bursting from their sacred glens;
Yet my thoughts are of your archangel face;
I look upon it and instantly know my place;
They return with pain, to their hidden dens;
Forsaking all I could ever be.

The dirges and laments grow old;
The hymns all repetitious;
The psalms been said;
Mantras ending in “amen”;
The portents so damned contentious;
To lucent longs of my heart, once goddamned bold.

The niads come, no vulgarity for me
Though deservingly enough I be,
In attempt to cheer me, they bathe me in streams,
My guilty heart screams to leave me be.

I leave the niads;
And remain solitary;
Avoiding meliae and napaeae;
Steering clear all the oreads, though they plea;
Searching for Her angelic monastery;
Far away from all the dryads.

I wandered far and wide;
To try to find that which I had lost;
All those months ago, was perfect bliss;
Oh how I longed Her saving kiss;
How I had cursed gods for the cost;
Putting a sea of spears into my sides;

After walking with the burdensome spears;
I gave myself, resigned, to die;
I was staring into the clouds;
It was then that it resounds;
Her euphonic voice, I began to cry;
She had found me, after the long years.

We again live in harmony;
The mournful music all forgotten;
The love we shared;
No one could’ve cared;
More than you did for me, each other begotten;
For I don’t exist solely, you’re the maker of me.

The nymphs all weep in shame, your beauty their bane;
They, going insane, ingest wolfs bane;
And end their reign, to their disdain;
For you are now my archangel light.

We found a cove, one which we made our home;
A lengthy duration we stayed;
We remained in love;
As two petit turtledoves;
Away from each others’ embrace, we ne’er strayed;
Ne’er were either of us alone.

We slept soundly during the night;
My arms greedy, pulling Her closer me;
She wafting frankincense, slides near;
Opens Her eyes and waits to hear;
My first words, to help Her heart see;
The hidden me inside, so full of light.

I whisper to Her that “I love you, ”;
She pressed Her angelic lips into mine;
She whispers words straight to my heart;
“I love you too, ”, the purest words I ever heard, made my part;
Into a complete one, a whole so fine;
I smile as the roses for Her bloom.

The wonders I feel, too good to be true;
An angel could not love one again such as I;
We stare into each others’ blue pools;
Realized now that we were fools;
To think god would seek an eye for an eye;
I could finally see from Her point of view.

Regardless the pain I had, the bane exact,
The rain fell to map the contours of Her,
The sweet flowers’ gain, caused me go insane,
For one day, god took Her again, from me!

The end of all reason;
The angel stolen from me;
I now had only contempt;
For whom stole my content;
In a jealous feud, my life to be;
A lonely time, a brand new season.

I stay near the cove, in reborn sorrow and woe;
I stay alone, permitting none;
To see me wallow and cry;
And scream out curses to the sky;
And then comes one;
A hesperides, I know.

The nymph tried to coax me from the cove;
The memory of perfect serenity;
I send the nymph away;
I attempt to keep her at bay;
For all I want is Her tranquility;
Her, who has my heart, my only trove.

Hesperides finally departs, ne’er to return;
And the rest of them depart as well;
I remain again alone;
In midst of the sorrow and the woe;
In the greatest of pains, my deepest hell;
Yet I shirked off all the concern.

The tempest now led, the life of the dead,
Who rose from his bed of roses,
He had not a logical head, longing only for what She said,
“I love you, my belovéd.”

One more came, years later, a pale nymph;
Who wandered aimlessly into my cove;
I paid no heed;
Despite my need;
To feel any good, to find a new trove;
Instead of spilling my sickly lymph.

Not sickly with virus, but once again with night;
The darkness seeping throughout my veins;
The poison of saffron’s curse;
Fully realized, a Grimoire, the worst;
For my darkness carried to all planes;
Except for Her’s, to my wondrous delight.

The nymph coaxed its way into my arms;
But I could not care for the creature;
My words all hollow and harrowed my heart;
My heart which at been with Her from the start;
This nymph’s most interesting feature;
Its inability to love, though I cause it harm.

It soon grew tired and bored with me;
Left one day without so much as a “goodbye”;
I lay in the roses, cut by the thorns;
After this time, too tattered and torn;
Giving in to horrid things, so putrid as vice;
My soul prepares for departure from my body…

I ignited fires, in the midst of dead tree spires,
Watching as the flames produced acrid fumes,
Stare at my pyre, now blazing afire,
When it drifts down in front of me, a plume.

I put out the fires and stared at the sky;
My hopes rising, hopefully not for naught;
My eyes trace the air;
For She who maybe still cares;
I had just given up when my eye caught;
I whirled on my toes and began to cry.

For She was standing, in front of me;
Just staring, saying nothing, for what seemed like ages;
Then catching my eyes, she herself began to cry;
She cried harder, for She had risen so high;
To seraphim heights, we stared, outlasting hemophages;
This, finally I realized, was when I came to be.

She stared into my eyes, once gray, now blue;
Waiting to see if I’d speak;
When I did not, She said, “I love you still, ”;
I stared at Her more, until;
I became tired from crying, my legs grow weak;
I walked slowly to Her and said, “I love you too.”

Her embrace now remembered, wafting frankincense;
Her frame so delicate, pressed up against mine;
Her head on my shoulder;
Her heart ousted the older;
Her hair on my face, so straight and so fine;
Her perfect blue eyes, so full of innocence.

“Sarah, my seraph, I want you to know,
I ne’er stopped loving you, and still do today,
For my love for you is eternal, as love should be,
True love forever, you and me.”….

This he said to her, ‘fore he was cast into Hél;
Where he met the Dragon, and joined his ranks;
The evanescent dark angels;
Who poisoned tear-filled wells;
Then the wells spilled over, onto the banks;
Of Styx, soul-river, which all must hail.

He lived in the deep, where souls retch and weep;
Bereft under blow from his scythe;
His victims so sure;
There was ne’er a cure;
From his blade, so lucent and lithe;
He grins as the vermillion seeps.

He recites passages from his evil Grimoire;
A certain portent of death;
He speaks directed at her;
For all they ever were;
The pain still murders his breath;
As he retreats to his comfort de noir.

He conducts morbid corpses in choruses;
The macabre lyrics of fallyn dawns;
He takes pride in the wails;
He conjures up gales;
Their winds ripping through the forests of fauns;
Then he climbs out of Hél’s orifices.

With cries in his ears, he searches out fears;
Protects his trustworthy damned;
He finds only ashes, his face ever ashen;
Even as he butchered the lamb.

His malice was real, his vengeance true;
Toward those who were innocent;
But to those who caused pain;
Devotees to his disdain;
To them he was indifferent;
Yet their tongues slice completely his views.

The victims cry out;
Unto a dear god made deaf;
They run and they cower;
As he rises to power;
Giving all those opponents death;
He ignores her easily as she pouts.

Beelzebub comes to laud him;
Ne’er unjustly so;
For Him, new dark angel, did what Cane pleaded;
And murdered all light, evil’s deep-seated;
In His wretchéd heart, emotions flow;
Like sanguine rivers, for His once belovéd Seraphim.

They then flowed openly, like quicksilver rayne, insipid as the day;
The newly coloured archways of Midian, a limpid harbinger;
The undead rising, palates longing for vermillion of him;
The seraphim retch and turn away, as Baron’s eyes go dim;
He now broached preter-byronic position, and became a binger;
Of the evanescent damned souls, relishing his divine pay.

They finished off Baron, like some sick form of carrion,
His body left, too bereft even to beset, retched
And then fell, the divinity drained, in his old throne now He reigns
And holds the reins of the dead whilst it raynes acid raine,
For damnation and a day, causing gentry mourning and disdain,
Until He finds His wretchéd heart among the ashes again...