The Death Of Ophelia

Stretches of water melted in a blue mist
as the night air lightened echoing her
shrieks of hysterical laughter.

The sweet gloom of darkness captivates
the paleness of her face,
dark hair an upswept tousle of curls.

Futility straightened her rags
as she drowned without any desire
for servility.

Framed in dusk with clasped hands
full of white lilies a string of twinkle lights
transforms into a flower chain of crimson
blooms.

Footprints through the dust bring water
to the gardens sprouting them with pleasant
pride as Ophelia assimilates to the shadows.

The rivers are to be trusted within their own
conventions ,as we within ours, with sufficient
allowances made for inherent temptations.

Theresa likes to write about matters of self-inflection and personal experiences. She likes to write about matters of an out-of body, out-of-mind state, as well as subjects of an idyllic, pagan nature and the occult. Theresa writes horror, as well as concrete gritty and realistic dramas. Theresa is said to be witch and a poet. (within the horror writing community).

Find more by Theresa C. Gaynord in the Author Index.

Comment on this story in the Aphelion Forum

Return to Aphelion's Index page.