where the sun was obviated
and the moon was set to dictate light,
where the course of life was deviated
and no day would follow night,
an oasis of darkness rose from a desert of pain,
ruled from the tower of a castle
by a queen of cursed ordain.

a void castle like her heart,
with walls replaced by stalking mirrors,
reflecting every step and thought,
augmenting awes and errors.
a single holograma-
perpetuated towards infinity-
a mad, theatric diorama
of a sad soul that's lonely..

no windows are there to protect,
to obfuscate loud curses of the wind,
just tender curtains to collect
storm's voluptousity.

empty chambers like a lonely hood
bolster a conundrum's structure;
the reckless ones who wanted to perturbe
could never hear again the changes of rapture.

no flame can burn its light inside;
sheer darkness has empoisoned candles
only moon's self-collected grim
steps in the mirror with her golden sandals.

no sound nor voice, and not a single spider.
all-virgin of life, ruled by obsession;
recurrence recurred with obstinance;
a well-structured isolation
that perpetuates itself with violence.

and as you mount the thousand and one stairs,
it's not a room what you will reach
but yet another empty void that bears
the lure of a quiet precipice.

the last of stair sets equal grounds
with the dominant tower.
the chamber in it will be reached
by "the one" prone to a majestous flight
the wings that will open this window
will belong to the so sought knight.

an empty chamber with more mirrors is to be unlocked.
but in the midst of it, a bed of satin: white.
the princess whose life here had stopped
was kidnapped from the cradle of her life
and given to lord death as bride.

far from alive, but yet not dead
fallen steeply asleep and numbed,
with frozen lips, so far from red,
to death's embrace she has succumbed.

a frozen corpse with no heart to beat;
covered in white velvet skin,
with green eyes plunged into her secret dream
to life's laws, the princess won't submit.

she's nothing but a sculpture carved in flesh,
with hair mounting down her hips,
this is a grievious , mourning mistress,
awaiting in silence the awakening kiss.

2008, june 19th