Ophelia
Ophelia ophelia stories
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esperanza079
esperanza079 A wannabe poet and tortured artist
Autoplay OFF   •   4 months ago
4/4/19

based on a dream

Ophelia

In halls abandoned,

In halls abandoned, dim-remembered rooms,

In halls abandoned, dim-remembered rooms, a heartache beats a funeral march.

Ghosts,

Ghosts, haunted in their mechanical movements,

Ghosts, haunted in their mechanical movements, dance in their clockwork macabre.

Forlorn in the brief hours of love,

Forlorn in the brief hours of love, her veil was hysteria and her song absurdity.

Clad in rue,

Clad in rue, a discarded bride in an anguished sleep,

Clad in rue, a discarded bride in an anguished sleep, an Ophelia in quiet waters.

She is beautiful in her deathly visage:

She is beautiful in her deathly visage: a still life portrait of piety and madness.

Burdened by a heavy heart and concrete soul,

Burdened by a heavy heart and concrete soul, she drowned in regret and longing.

The dull noontide sun,

The dull noontide sun, the chimes of the church bells,

The dull noontide sun, the chimes of the church bells, love letters left unwritten.

There,

There, beneath the willow's trembling curtains,

There, beneath the willow's trembling curtains, she will stay never knowing why.

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