Cupid Rejected

One of my old works....alomost 6 yrs to the date.

O, poet divine, thou bard of the albatross,
Who long days at the whiles of ope’ hath spent.
Think thou thy misery hath gall’d thee more ,
Than that which fortune to me hath lent.
Thou spoke of pain
And fiendish sights,
And viper thoughts
On moonlit nights.
Of rot of mind,
Decay of will;
But hear me out,
Thou hadst with thee,
A love of life
Loth to depart,
Plighted troth
To thy soul and heart.
Though never met,
Ever with thee,
Like oil on waters
Of a troubled sea.

When barb’d with gold, the white feathered dart,
Sped from the bow of yon rascal, blind boy
Of Venus, pierced more than this unfortunate heart,
It bled the soul , eclipsed all its joy.
Thou maiden fair, chaste as Luna’s silver rain,
Thy lips as honeydew on coral spill’d;
Those dark cascades tumbling in their perfumed train,
Madam, do not now disown, whom thine eyes have killed.
Would that we could depart together, depart far from civility,
To the rustic hills, the lazy brooks, the ripening heather,
To the bliss of noontide, the verdant greenery,
In some forsaken nook, dream in peace, in our arms together.
Hand in hand, arm in arm, we’d walk in the unnamed woods,
There under canopied shade , I’d nestle ‘mongst thy tresses,
Astride mirth itself, we’d mock Apollo, “Mar us if you could”,
Myself as Orion, would then woo thee, my virgin huntress.

Wherefore I lie now, on accursed Hela’s shores,
Darkness cloaks me, shrieks out in voices fell.
Stricken by grief and torment beyond portend,
O, that I never heard of thee to name or thy deeds to tell.
The thunderer
Mighty Mjoll has hurled,
The mountains tremble
And the stranger world,
Shrinks to a formless
Shapeless grey,
And evil shapes
On the mind now prey.
No human touch
Or piteous eye,
No light or hope
Do I descry;
The eagle descends
Now every eve,
Promethean pain
Is my lot to grieve.
Evenstar of my heart, now cleave to me,
Shut thine eyes an instant, wipe away the mirage.
Love greater than man’s wont , shall I bestow on thee,
Hence, beneath yon silver girt maiden, tonight, let our souls merge.
I stand now, knocking on heaven’s door,
Below, hell fires are lit, the legions of Satan await;
Stretch out thy hand, pull me onto the everlasting shore,
Else everlasting darkness shall be my fate.


In such hour of doom, do the heavens part,
Purple plumed and mantle of silver white;
A rider fair of form doth now appear,
With helm of gold and eyes Valinorean light.
“Come my liege
Shake of thy shroud.”
The blessed one
To me cried loud;
“What lacks thee ever
In wit or grace,
That should become
Such an ashen face.
Fie on thee,
If now thou will
For darkling tresses
Mighty oceans spill.
Hearken ever,
To thy mind not heart
And find thy brooding
Gloom depart.”


He spoke to me, words fair of form
Of wisdom ,enchantment, wizardry.
“Be warned, the greatest, of Man’s banes
Shall ever be a lover’s treachery.
Turn now hence
To the amorous realms
Of fleeting winds,
And leaping streams.
The burden’d boughs
And cooling mists
Shall serve thee better
Than thy aimless tryst.
Look on the glory
Of fair Ithil
From the living rock
Of Zirak -Zigil.
Seek for learning
Or bliss in art,
A mighty sword,
An enduring heart.”


The night is old, my messiah gone,
Like to the west wind, keen of breath;
He scattered the clouds, memory remains,
Of the disfigured dreams like an impotent wraith.
Hear me now
All ye men of worth,
Who in like pursuits
Have lost wit and mirth.
Lie fettered not
In unseen bonds,
But cast a glance
To the world beyond.
Earn wisdom, fame
And great renown,
Not despair under
The bejeweled crown.
Hearken to Athena
And Apollo now,
Dismiss Cupid
And his treacherous bow.