Once upon a future never, a long time ago,
There lived a lady of coal black eyes,
Who wandered the woods of old.
Haunted by the whispering trees and spirits held within,
A startling crow of peacock hues,
A companion for her sin.
Deep beneath the canopy, a silent, lonely tear,
Slivered down her moon-blushed cheek,
She wished that He was near.
Alone she must walk this path, she knew it from the start,
She summoned the powers that be,
And set her rings of arte.
She danced to an Unheard beat which never made a sound,
A painful angered staggered step,
Until she hit the ground.
On her knees she cast her eyes upon the long dead tree,
A Doorway barred and broken,
Alone she held the keys.
She straightened out the keyhole long-forged in fires white,
Entered the key and turned it,
And pushed with all her might.
She entered the chamber of tiles that resides within the tree,
Eyes adjusting to dimness,
Spiral stairs she now can see.
The stairs lead downwards, into the deeply veiled Earth
A place of forgotten dreams,
And temporarily mislaid mirth.
The walls stream with water and iron fills the air,
They whisper of lustful thoughts,
Unfulfilled promises and despair.
As she had expected the second was found there deep within,
Blood-stained wood and tarnish gilt,
Lost memories crashed on in.
Woven knot-grass and garlandry bedecked the Oaken door,
It opened with a labored creek,
She left this world once more.
Therein laid a garden of hidden holiness and decay,
Of forbidden fruit and desire,
And a long forgotten fray.
Beautiful, sweeping racemes of the Laburnum’s golden rain,
Grew with Lilies pure and white,
They spoke of beauty and bane.
Water rested in stagnant pools as well as rushing river,
What lurked beneath the surface,
Set the soul a-quiver.
The Willows wept loudly and the Roses rot under,
The scattered, reclaimed stones,
Of temples torn asunder.
Along the dank banks of the subterranean water,
A pale alabaster hand,
Offered the gift it had brought her.
The key to the final door laid within her grasp,
She gathered her wits about her,
It opened with a rasp.
Widely were flung the heavy ancient doors,
Surprised that she knew this place,
She had been there times before.
Shadows filled her vision, and made her blood run cold,
Something came to great her,
A presence terrifying and old.
A Lady stood before her, beautiful and terrible behold,
Long hair writhed with serpents,
She was The Daughter of the Bones.
“I know why you come here, you heart is as mine,
But walk a careful balance,
Light shines within your eyes”.
“Shelter in my darkness, but oft look to the stars,
Embrace the seething blackness,
A balm soothing for your scars.
You have long journeyed here with passion and desire,
Drink deep my love,
The well awaits to feed unholy fire”.
“Don’t stay too long or often, the well will run dry.
Take a pause to search,
For answers waiting in the light.
But for now I have you, firmly within my grasp,
To whisper arcane secrets,
Hidden knowledge to fuel your arte”.
Poetry – Sarah-Jayne Farrer