Within my mind, a darkness lies

a brooding thought has taken hold,

of secret cobble-covered roads

I never tread by light of day;

There is a handsome joker-man

he wanders in my garden-walks

those mossy rising rings of stone

that arch above the forest way,

Upon this path at dusk I tread

through shadow-weaving murky webs

through garlands dark in haunting veil

I trace his steps 'round rotting fray,

And down into the deeping roots

down below the mighty tops

of ever-greener leafy trees

majestly sweeping down in sprays,

-That haunting height up 'round my head

no sunlight piercing those deep depths

that evanescent, fleeting light

my hands would touch it if it stayed,

But going light has disappeared

and darking man is drawing close

his ghostly hands with eerie light

so pale and cold, like ancient Fae,

And in that hall of evergreen

that gentleman with kingly eyes

of dull and somber winter reeds

-like old bones 'fore dark coves of grey,

Oh! Of the light in his white hands

that brushed mine in that passing dance

they never lingered long in touch

though heat they held, I'd feel it fade,

And here, past all things light and free,

past fragile thing, past fields of green

in mighty groves 'round halls of stone

I found a feeling full of pain;

For just as soon he'd catch my heart

he'd dance again, and let it go;

it bit down deep within this flesh

my heart too easy to betray,

This hollow, lonesome, keening flight

he played before he caught again

my soul with petty, trying games

to lead me on, to throw away,

-Until I bounded through the woods

into a castle built of stone

and barred the door, and kept him out

with iron gates to keep me caged:

And from the window high above

still far beneath the bough of trees,

I'd looked down from the treading path

-as he'd wait patiently for me.

~Abigail Lundberg, 6/22/04