Frozen Fear, Porcelain Lover, and A Trail of Black Feathers
I sleep with ease, and dream of happy memories;
A sunlit park with children laughing,
Something dark, ominous, baffling,
As I turn, black feathers I find,
Trailing down to a man refined.
But then I awaken, peace forsaken,
My body freeze, my voice unheard,
No matter how much I try I could not stir.
Something heavy weighs upon my chest,
This puzzled me, I could not rest.
Hidden eyes, from everywhere, are staring right at me.
Why does my heart pound? I wish to flee.
Is there somebody whispering to me?
What was that? Who is there?
Why am I seeing things that are not there?
They aren't there, right?
Where is the sunlight?!
My throat feels tight; is someone choking me?
But I see nothing! Is there a force I cannot see?
I struggle to move, but futile and weak.
I cannot reach out to god, or even shriek.
Who is there taunting me with wicked glee?
I only wish to be free!
I close my eyes, praying for this nightmare to end.
Do you expect me to be dead?
Dawn arrives and I regain my self-control
While I calm my troubled mortal soul.
I come every morning at dawn, dressed in velvet red,
My gloved hands manipulating
The puppet's strings while a fair lass
Watches them dance at my every command.
Everyday she comes to watch my show
Entrance by my story-telling while I,
The Puppeteer, am entranced by her beauty.
A man in ebony black passes by me,
While I step over a blacken feather,
Still performing, still pulling, the strings of fate.
Dancing with her in my arms,
In this elaborate party of mine,
I stroke and caress her beautiful face.
Lady Marie, your angelic eyes shine better
Than my glass orbs of violet and green;
Lady Marie, your rosy cheeks are lovelier
Than my cold snow-white skin underneath these sleeves;
Lady Marie, you, who stands last after my show,
Smile like that of a goddess, enchanting me;
If only I was as lively as you are.
You touch my face only to find it cold as ice
And your fearful eyes look around
To find out my guests are merely puppets
Whom I control with these porcelain fingers of mine.
I pull their strings, following my every command,
As I make them dance around you.
Yes, my dear, I am your porcelain lover.
Won't you stay with me forever,
And give me your heart?
This empty chest of mine needs your love,
And only you can control my fate.
Please answer me, my dear,
Or my strings may choke you . . .
A fine pale gentleman dressed in ebony black
Danced with a feathered top hat and beautiful dark eyes
Alluring, mysterious, and deep like that of a raven.
Wherever he goes a story is told
As he leaves a trail of black feathers behind.
Smirking, knowing he will live forever;
"Nevermore," was the last thing he said
Before leaving his friend, Poe, dead.