- This was the first poem I had ever typed, and performed. I was 16.
I figured I'de post it. :)



Into the porcelain fog, he aimlessly sought for her
Through the deadness of the air, the silence of the trees
He stumbled, through the mist, for shards of her
Into the bleak pretense of her lovely tragedy.

He mourned her passing,
since the day of their trespassing.
Into the violet dusk they danced
 Into her deep-set eyes he was entranced

Dawn found her in the forests, dancing in glee and laughter
He sought her there, and in the nights there after
She slept under the stars, as he watched her longingly, in his arms

A soul so carefree An angel’s envy.
A shame she couldn’t be

She was heavens envy, and an angel's sin
Rose colored lips and porcelain skin
Possessing dark golden sun-kissed hair, that curved gracefully down her back
 And woodland eyes of a gentle stare, that warmed any soul a black.

Into the winds she took his hand, dancing as a nymph to the music of the trees
Into the forest they ran, thinking none other but their own eyes
Could see

A soul so carefree An angel’s envy.
Thinking the world could not see

Into the forests one night he sang for her,
Alas, the winds were still
The trees were silent, no marks of her
None but frost and a deafening chill

With his heart is his veins, he made haste to the town
Men of God walked the streets
The Church bells were sound
Mortals flooded around the self proclaimed saints
Pondering the sudden need to send the town awake

One of them dressed in robes of white, announced, “A witch has been wandering the nights.”
The crowd looked among each other, in sudden gasps and cries
He proclaimed that she had been speaking with demons and dancing with the dead
And that she was to be found, and to offer up her lovely sinful head.

With the promise of death, upon his Angel Of Light
He found her in tears, hidden among the fog nests, in the night.
Her glowing face was wet and cold with tears
Her dancing soul was shivering, her eyes tainted with fear.

He held her knowing the saints sought her
Angered at the God’s envy for not having her

She touched his face so gently and embraced him with a soft kiss
He held her soul in his arms and tasted the tears lingering on her lips
 He wiped her face and looked into her eyes, With a tremble in his voice he spoke with a cry “ Fate cannot tear you from me, For I was born to love thee."
She fell silent to any reply, for the torches and angry fists were heard nearby

Into the forests they ran, the winds pushing them along the way
He took her hand,
“ They cannot take you away.”
The wolves howled into the deadness of the night
As the stampede of torches sought the carefree sprite

The lovers continued into the night, hearing the rage behind them Burning in pain the angel fell, her spirit crippled in fright He carried her in his arms, his body slowly withering He soon stumbled with her, both bodies quivering

He embraced her and promised to never love again In tears she spoke of her love for him “I belong to heaven now, and we must part because of the world’s sin.”

They kissed in a passionate parting, for now the crowd was approaching.
The man in white shouted " There lay the wench! With a man under her trance!"
The mob tore them from one another's arm, dragging her by her hair
Her lover broke through the men with his fists, in a dark rage of despair

Dawn approached as both souls were brought back to the town
Her face was stained with blood, battered and torn was her silk gown
Her golden hair was ripped by handfuls, by the envious women of the town
Her lover lie subdued by wound, he lay beaten on the ground

The men of god placed her on the scaffold that was centered in the streets
In mockery they spat at her, destroying the beauty in her so meek...
The beaten mortal could only see, his body was of no aid
His heart collapsed as he watched his darling decay

As she was bound and set aflame, in agony he screamed her name
The man in white struck him and he fell again in defeat
She was a silk veil torn from grace, as the flames took to her face
They locked eyes one last time, in agony her soul left her, with her lovers mournful cry

After the angel was reduced to ash, the streets cleared away
Other men helped the broken lover to his feet, and brought him to a place to stay

He awoke in a daze,
       Hearing her voice, remembering her face
   He raised to his feet ignoring the pain,
Running into the forests
Calling his love’s name

Into the porcelain fog, he aimlessly sought for her
Through the deadness of the air, the silence of the trees
He stumbled, through the mist, for shards of her
Into the bleak pretense of their lovely tragedy.

Victims of the world’s sin

He sought for her soul in the forest
Still dancing in the winds

 
-Kelly Lynn Noll

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