domingo, 15 de dezembro de 2013

B is for Bold [THE ALPHADEATH CODEX]




Mother knows best, so she keeps on saying, wailing at my near deaf ears,
Not much care, not even a stare caught me unaware shedding tiny tears.
Yet, days become weeks, months become years and now here I am, no longer unaware.
There I was about to be driven beyond mischievous play, fears turning to nightmare
Alas, motherly love indifferent, girl to become acquiescent, beware!

A fortnight to pass, sliding like a venomous snare entrapping me in a mirror hall.
Has my faith laid in a pool of atrocious convenience, forbidding any brazen gall?
To be outspoken, a porcelain doll broken, given to other like a mere hand token…

As mother knows best, day succeeded into a night to be past, to unknown taker,
Will the shadowman this gentle heart break for mere entertainment?
Will my soul stop containing the dismal shriek that my poor brain invades?
Or will he just lay my living corpse in the thorn bed of Hades…
Close your eyes little girl, let those lashes be thy shade!

And so the party, most entertaining to guests and flamboyant pretenders,
Rushed through the evening of my delivering to another,
To the greatest pleasure of the victorious regent mother.
No longer had I bothered with anything but her sage utterings,
My sufferings ignoring, while my thoughts kept exploring the face of a future husband,
Staring at me from the crowd gently swaying between the living room dull paintings.
Wanderlust I sway, but the moon held nothing in return as my heart jumped in craze,
He is coming to me, mother’s holding the gent’s hand, no more hiding in my mind’s maze. 

There I was, acquaintance to a stranger, his smile a vortex to my unsteady soul,
He muttered some kind word, mother understood, bowed and left, leaving me to death…
We engaged in a shy conversation, strolling the hall as we really spoke of nothing at all.
Nerve endings burned my outer skin as he mock smiled whilst he gazed my dreary eyes
As I felt the scavenger’s grip would drive me into deep in agony bellow,
A step led us outside to wander in the balcony, while contemplating the city lights, slow.

And his masters voice kept overflowing with deeds and conquerors achievements,
For my stare laid in the willow’s amber leaves, nine stores bellow the moonlit balcony row,
Losing their weight in the evening’s breeze, dancing delighted in a delightful show.
Languidly the avenue closedown, lit by the late evening’s embers glow.
I dared to ask my to be wed everlasting pair which colour he preferred,
And lifting his hand, pointing to my trembling face he caught me by surprise and said:
- “Red as your burning lips, white as your curvy hips that my heart leaves so mellow
And added, may I be so bold to perhaps recite Othelo?”

Startled by a devilish instinct I twitched in angst as his sinful eyes pierced me like an arrow
And as sinfully I replied to my knightly armed dull engager with the most doubtful grin:
-  “To marry you I’ll never will, I’d rather turn my eyes black and my red lips yellow”
As my arms outreached and pushed the incredulous fake prince off the balcony rim,
Nine stores he fell, as in slow motion I bid farewell to my unimpressive fellow…

1 comentário:

  1. Delicioso humor, tão negro e bem tecido. Adorei.

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