Bonnie Lass
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Bonnie's Place to shove shiznit when she @ skool.
« Thread started on: Jun 27th, 2005, 6:23pm » |
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“Memories are made of this”- Achievement standard 2.1
Her Ghost in the Fog – Joel Mooij
The sun has wept upon the wave-less land, and the mists, steal in with ease. Blanketed by warmth, within the sanctuary of light, the surrounding night is both eerie and dissonant. One cannot help but marvel at the inharmonious nature of the night; the moon, an ethereal deity vessel innocently dominating the sky, and Satan’s brethren, howling in adoration beneath it. Having long since broken my own conventions, it’s eye is fixed on me, like an asphodel, it does not wax nor wave. The even star has over looked me, one more breath before darkness ensnares, and the night takes me back to that faithless scene, where she lay. My Pandora of the night.
Gazing upwards towards the heavens, the moon is full and lustrous, illuminating every thing it touches – her pale, creamy skin now shimmering a gentle silver due to the lunar effects. I watch as she dances about in the fields. Such beauty. Such grace.
Her body now sends out a magnificent aura of light and energy, colours, love, passion, seemingly reverberating off life itself. My eyes must be cheated by some spell, for never in a dream would you see such a thing. As if under that same spell, I am drawn towards her, stopping just short. Staring into those hollowed out eyes, she just smiles, laughs and backs away. She’s taunting me, her face, now silhouetted in darkness, her curvatures, blurred by my night-vision. Unable to move, I wonder, does she really posses such strange powers? Or is it all just lunacy.
Do I follow? Or return to safety and rid myself of this madness. No! I feel that same divine presence urging me forwards as it did before. Reckless in thought, I plunge in to the night, blinded by the fear of loosing her, with only moonlight and false hope to guide my way, the ecstasy inside me, burning as bright as heated tungsten, pushing me forwards. Waist deep in my own delirium, delusion so thick it’s almost palpable, sinking deeper and deeper into a state of psychasthenia.
Hope love, life itself, what good is it now? Subsidence relieves my broken spirit, still filled with desire for her, the brutal reality sets in.
She is gone…..
Gazing upwards into the vast mirror, staring back at me the reflecting god. Dim through the mists, the luminary body seems to flicker and I too light up, for there, at that moment, in perfect synchronism, she stands, moon-glancing, loose desires free, to writhe under thy spell.
Whispers in the wind, wafting aroma’s, I can feel her. Comforted by her presence, and confidence anew, now knowing, that love has won through.
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