Melanchonic - Blog Posts
The Voided Lovers
The voided lovers Must never be seen. They cannot dance in the light of day, And the moon will not grace them with her gleam.
They may only embrace on the darkest of nights, They may only whisper sweet nothings in a crowd. They may only stroll hand in hand through forgotten streets, Where not even the lamplights dare to look down.
They will never feel the warmth on their lover’s skin, Only the cold acidity the wind provides. Yet embrace they do— Through the dark and glacial nights.
They make cathedrals of alleyways, Temples of whispered breath. Where every glance is sacred, And every touch defies death.
They are sunless, Moonless, Rid of light— Yet their love is never tuneless.
Their love is their dance, Their love is their light, Their love is the warmth On the cold winter’s night.
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Old English Version:
The voided lovers, cursed by fate, Must dwell in shadows, lone and late. They dare not dance 'neath sunlit skies, Nor bask where moonlight softly lies.
Their trysts are veiled in sable gloom, Their voices hushed, as though a tomb Had sealed their vows in silence deep— Where not e'en gaslight dares to creep.
The world, austere and cruelly drawn, Would scorn the touch their hands have known. So chill the wind, so sharp the air— Yet still they linger, pale and bare.
They fashion cathedrals from alleyways, Altars of breath, in spectral haze. Each glance a hymn, each touch defied The death that stalks where love must hide.
They are sunless, Moonless, Forsaken by flame— Yet hearts unlit bear passion's name.
Their love is their lantern, Their solace, their plight, Their warmth in the shivering Grasp of the night.
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This is a poem I wrote while bored and thinking of some of my friends from my DR's and OC's
I've been really getting into rewriting my poetry into old English because I think it makes it more romantic and melancholic
Let me know your thoughts on it!
The heart goes cold. The heart grows old. The repetition of moments be it trembling or joyous. The heart loses it all in the end.
Lie
the process of my baby boy
the light comes from the people on train pov
When will you realize that you and I belong together
We may be toxic for one another but living another day with you is painful
The pain eats me away day by day
The moons calls to me at night, reflecting all our memories
The frosty cold night breeze prickles through my skin, reminding me of our romantic walks by the park and how you kissed me breathlessly as if I was your oxygen
Whispering winds
In winds that whisper through the night,
Your giggles echo, pure and light.
A gentle tune, a soothing art,
like medicine for my weary heart.
by Weltenasche.
Where angels wade
Through lips like art, I found my thirst,
in tearful eyes, the pain immersed.
Your hair, once soft, began to fade,
may fears dissolve where angels wade.
by Weltenasche.
Flower
Deep into the dark of night
a single seed was cast to earth;
buried with no star in sight
hoping for a loving birth.
And a flower was to rise
from the dusty ground it grew;
could I really trust my eyes
when all I saw in it was you?
And I watered it with tears
and given it your name;
still it wilted in its fears
was I the one to blame?
by Weltenasche.
Regen
Schon als Kind war ich fasziniert vom Regen.
Die kühlenden Tropfen auf meiner Haut;
die einzigartige Stille,
mir so vertraut;
der schwarze Teppich,
aus unzähligen Wolken gebaut;
endlose Stunden habe ich in den Himmel geschaut.
by Weltenasche.
I'm not accustomed to happiness, I wouldn't know how to deal with it.
Rather, I crave a bearable melancholy. Not the kind that is soul-crushing, but the kind that slices like a fine paper cut on your wrists. It stays tucked away in a corner of your heart, quiet and patient. Like a nightingale who sits in darkness and sings in solitude.
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