Beyond the Grave
© Lynne den Hartog-Smith 2000
Cloaked in dreamtime shroud.
Potent visions fill her head,
She stirs and moans aloud.
He lifts the veil and finds his prey,
This hunter of the good,
He deifies the death of day,
His realm is Nightmare Wood.
Though she struggles to resist
All sanctuary has fled,
And rising in a cloud of mist
Her soul departs the bed.
Shadowform of mystery,
Merging with the night,
Creature of insanity,
Dark enemy of light.
Liquid stream of desire,
Moonmad hunger rise,
Reflections of a starlit fire
Glinting in dark eyes.
Recognition dawning
In confusion's cave,
Through the fogs of mourning
She sees beyond the grave.
Yearning hunger in his veins,
Full with passion's flood,
He that conquered death's deep pains
With tears of precious blood.
Senses spinning, reason flawed,
Her soul begins to burn.
"I love thee so, my Darkling lord,
I prayed thee would return."
In the dreamtime shadows meet,
Silence shrouds the deed.
Immortal figures dance in love
Immersed in mutual need
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