Sashka Salvatore

Sashka Salvatore Poems

Once upon a time of timid mists and snows
Lay a hill so woebegone,
The qualms and anguish it had brought
Had all his torments done.
...

Interviewer:

Wherefore hast thou dwelt in the lethal years
And have thy steady feet brought thee to drenching tears?
...

Come little children I'll take thee away
into a land of Enchantment

Come little children the time's come to play
...

If the night is that which your chest's foretold
Then let me surrender to it with all that I behold.
My undoubted saviour, t'is you that I seek
And in swarthy waves I found you - holding one so weak.
...

Sashka Salvatore Biography

I'm a 19 years old ridiculously, possibly foolishly brave girl that has too many passions and pursuits in life. Becoming a published, well-known, respected writer is the greatest one. For there is no such thing quite as harmful and delightful to its creator as Art.)

The Best Poem Of Sashka Salvatore

Once Upon A Time

Once upon a time of timid mists and snows
Lay a hill so woebegone,
The qualms and anguish it had brought
Had all his torments done.

Down thorny roads his feet did tour, blistered, bare,
‘Twas a vast and opaque night
Lit not by faerie children’s care
But tortures of this knight.

A golden heart he sought for his hairy one
To exchange and love to feel,
A maiden fairer than the Sun
His sordid wish to heal.

Beneath the rocky valley with black trees bound,
Never where clouds haggard pour -
Doth he lumbered, upon the ground
A maiden he sought soared:

“What thou wish for peril brings, harm and deceit,
I shall give thee heart of gold
But I warn thee – price will lethal be”
Spoke she to the knight bold.

The knight pondered not, but leapt for heart of gold,
Her chest ripped open, her blood
Soaked his fingers as he took hold
Silencing the heart’s thud.

Not the fingers, not the kisses, not the tears
Would bring back the maiden’s might
As her heart to gold turned, his fears
Were stealing all his light.

Tumbling to his knees, he screeched, abhorring his fate,
The most vile, gruesome thing,
Too late – she had passed through the gate
Death cherished her with wings.

The clouds for once poured down heavily with blood
Soaking the heart once again -
To gold turned the grass and the mud,
Behold – a golden statue of a man.

Sashka Salvatore Comments

Sashka Salvatore Popularity

Sashka Salvatore Popularity

Close
Error Success