The Web Poetry Corner
The Web Poetry Corner
Mumbai, Maharashtra, India
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A Masque'd Passion
" Bewitched, bestirred, a melody awakes
in the muted strings of tragedy.
Subdu'd, consum'd, an agony abates
in the swansong of a threnody."
Lucrece, Lucrece, the crippled woods whisper
thy name in discordant perversions,
of Orphic rimes that mad Tarquin murmurs,
in the throes of tempestuous circumstance.
" 'Twas by scarlet eventide that I first beheld
my darkling muse by the wind-swept shores;
she stood unguarded, while the fading light caressed
her cygnetine frame, before it sank forlorn."
Lucrece, Lucrece, the winged zephyr howls
in the cavernous halls of this abandoned palace,
where the Tarquin, in priapic madness prowls,
making futile covenants with love's surrogate.
" The serpent kiss of passion,ever so torrid,
in frenzied overtures seizes me ;
when arbor'd indreams of halcyon missive,
I succumb, my love, I succumb to thee. "
As the flickering candle vainly endeavours
to siege the rising battlements of shade,
his Proserpine awaits in her catafalque chamber,
while dire wolves lament the Tarquin's fate
" Oh, but to reach out and claim it as mine,
that vaulting desire urges me to,
but ' Nay ', says reason, that minstrel who divines
sychopantic virtue that the humbled construe. "
And the Tarquin casts a despondent eye
on this torpid night, that listless waits,
for his flaccid love to arise and descry
its impending doom in pallid Phoebe's embrace.
" To walk this path of daggers unfettered
by quiescent thoughts of th' immaculate
towards where the vestal white lies murdered,
and damnation lies in wait at the razor's edge. "
The night was quiet yet,when the Tarquin stole out,
cloaked in wolfskin, out to hunt.
While fair Lucrece slept on, unheeding without,
in the sable zodiac, her virtue's end.
" In deeds unlov'd and lives undone
by the raging maelstrom
of the bacchanal distraught,
ends this lyric before a vengeful passion
usurps the stage with savage abandon. "
Epilog : The Aftermath
Bewitched, bestirred, the Tarquin moans his fate,
his passion spent, his desire unquenched.
Subdued, consumed, fair Lucrece awaits
with tears penitent, for death's deliverance.
" Cruel Tarquin, mad Tarquin, thy love was no greater than mine.
Unhallow'd by truant love's grace (like thee)
Ne'er sought it through rough embrace (not me)
But I remain a rhymer, while you are a legend of rime. "