Just a few old poems I had lying around. I may put up more later.
Questions, comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated.
-Ophelia


The Nightengale and the Rose

A crumbling effigy of tarnished innocence
Searing memories
The trembling hands and knees
Bruised and scarred from crawling back to thee
Blunt thorns that did nothing
Trampled and torn petals of admiration
To much trust
To much love
Burned and broken
Shattered egg shells of a porcelain doll
More Ophelia
Than you will ever know



The Black Swan


Wings of black
Eyes of grey
Heart of white
An angel lost upon her way

A fallen swan
Lost in the cold of winter's breath beneath a field of ice
Wandering the shadows and reaching out at dawn
Reaching for her lover now dead and gone.

And yet, she must pay the price of forbidden love.
The punishment will not come from below
But from above.

She will be stripped of her glory
Hung for all to see
Innocence lost for the love of he

Arms outstretched and bound
Legs dangling inches from the ground
Her wings are clipped like that of a dove
The ultimate sacrifice for her mortal love

Only after she has been consumed by the flames
Will she rise up to take a new name
She will be born again of the fire
Learn to fly again
And meet her Sire

A lover and a teacher
Lost to her in time
Reborn once anew
To feed upon the crimson dew



Beast

We are the hunters
We are the feared
We are the beasts
of the frigid winter night

With the blood moon
as our only witness
We ravage and feast
Our wrath let loose apon the night

The moon watches us
Laughing at our guilty innocence
For we are not the cause
We are the effect

We twist and change
our bodies becoming victims
To the beasts of hell
That hath sprung loose

The taste of blood fills our jowls
and kisses our lips
The the lingering beat of the heart
is what drives us mad

We tear through the flesh
Tear through the soul
scratch out the eyes
rip out the still beating heart

We cannot control it
We cannot stop it
We love it and
We hate it

The silvery light
it what starts it
and the silver bullet
is what ends it

Masquerade

Welcome to the Masquerade,
the ball of deceit and guiles,
and the circus of deception-

bring your vanity
your hatred
your reputation and image
your glitter and glam
plastic and paint
decorate your mask with your lies

leave your thoughts
Your soul
Your individuality
Your opinions
They are not needed here
leave Yourself behind

Welcome to the Masquerade,
And welcome to the world

to be fake is to be human.
to wear a mask is to be human.
to live as you want others to see you is to be human.

To live as you are and to live as yourself is to be Real


Wild Rose

I am not the lovely nightingale
Who sings so proudly in a tree
Nor the colored peacock
With feathers spread so beautifully

I am not the valiant eagle
Who soars the open sky
Nor the little sparrow
Who feeds upon the fly

I am but a rose
Not a bred one at that
I am neither tall nor short
Nor thin nor fat

My petals are as deliate as a baby's skin
My leaves are deep and green
My stem is long and thin

I am smaller than the rest
And plain to compare
A wild rose not bred
Or watered for care

I am hardly the single rose
Set in a vase for pose
With petals primmed
Protective thorns cut off and trimmed

My petals are a little worse for wear
Dew drops are strewn throughout my hair
My thorns are sharp as tacks
And yet there is nothing I lack

I may not be beautiful to some
Intellegent maybe, but god knows I am not brave.
These things matter not to me
Because I do the best I can

I do the best to save
The little things in life
That mean the world to me
Like little pictures in my head

Forever in galleries overspread