Tales of Sleepless Nights..
The Rhapsody of pain
Is a never ending rhyme,
Its voice a chorus, melodies of gloom
Across tide and time.
Sometimes in longest monologues,
Sometimes in flashes and thrusts
Forgotten sorrows do make you pine.
And warped tunnels of memories not your own
Drown you in grief of loss and crime;
Flooded with froths grizzly and grime
On silent seas,
They turn back the flow of time.
Sara her name, or perhaps not
For she doubted the truth;
Perhaps some twisted godly game
Of fortune played
With flesh and blood of many a name.
Perhaps some trick of a fragmented mind,
That does suffocate in invisible bind.
"Oh there... there... there she is,"
She tosses and turns on sheets
Fair like her;
Drenched in sweat, crumpled and collapsed,
Still real and kind.
Yet not soft pillows, nor the cold
Can steel her mind.
Nightmares so real and savage,
On nights her slumbers do ravage;
Tear her soul to shreds,
And a question haunting her again
Blurred but never fades.
"Who is she? That woman in white,"
Decked in Angel's gown;
A sadness so deep
On her pale face,
Yet Sara can see no frown.
Her face is frozen, pallid and still,
No wrinkle of life or blood;
Her eyes too, aghast and sad,
Locked in a grieving stare;
She sinks to the bottom of waters dark
Lifeless limbs floating and bare.
Night past night, Sara does fight,
She does try to find;
But though she feels the salty sea breeze
With bile of death unkind,
She knows not the woman of sea
"And yet I knows she's a part of me..."
The vision turns uglier still
With sound of bullets fired;
With scent of gunpowder and blood,
A man falls, shocked and tired.
For a moment she sees
The faint blue eyes,
The sharp curve of nose,
That floating gold hair of his;
And while he falls with lifeless grace,
In silver light it glows.
"No" shrieks the woman in white;
Her shimmering form
Dainty but tight;
Tears are none,
Only terror in those dark eyes,
She has seen the murder of love,
No sound, no calls no cries.
The ocean so large but
Stunned and still;
Beneath a floating boat…
The night a blur to vision then
And fallen, without hope.
The moon does shine,
A creak in its glow;
As clouds cover her face.
The woman in white stoned and lost,
Finds death to embrace.
She sinks in moments,
Gone… Gone and Gone…
Lost and frozen in dark and deep
Grave waters forlorn.
Then the last shadow of night
Comes to life on deck;
The wooden floors scream in anguish,
Heavy steps come to pass on deck.
A pistol in hand,
With none to follow and nowhere to return;
He comes to life on deck.
They say he was handsome once,
With dark hair and pinewood eyes,
Now a hollow face, a tainted soul
he stood alone and unwhole;
Marred by guilt of passion,
A corpse with a heartless hole.
A blink, a wink; a fuzzy haze
And does Sara awake;
Calamities gone leaving marks and stains
Do slander her waking self.
What is it that makes her see,
Images false or real they be,
Night and night again?
What is it that she can hope to gain,
From tales gory and gloomy as such
Or confounding riddles of pain;
That haunt her when the blonde man dies,
Night and night again.
A photo old and by her bed,
Three smiling faces etched in grey,
One her grandmother she never met,
With two men she did befriend.
Yet she loved that antique piece,
Showing the beauty Catherine
And a dark haired Alexander too,
With white haired Shane
Beaming in between.
Sara knew Cathy was young,
When God claimed her life;
But the two men, she did not know,
were with her at that time.
Fate perhaps or lust of men,
twisted the happy grins;
But death arrived hours soon,
On a boat atop the Atlantic,
That drowned beneath the moon.
- Arnab Chakraborty & Irene S
{P.S.- This is a new verse based on my previous poems.. "The Final Showdown CAS(PART 1)" & "The Final Showdown CAS(PART 2)-The Strange Life of Sara Thomas." The continuation is written by Arnab Chakraborty "Tales of Sleepless Nights" on his perception on my story.. :) }
The Rhapsody of pain
Is a never ending rhyme,
Its voice a chorus, melodies of gloom
Across tide and time.
Sometimes in longest monologues,
Sometimes in flashes and thrusts
Forgotten sorrows do make you pine.
And warped tunnels of memories not your own
Drown you in grief of loss and crime;
Flooded with froths grizzly and grime
On silent seas,
They turn back the flow of time.
Sara her name, or perhaps not
For she doubted the truth;
Perhaps some twisted godly game
Of fortune played
With flesh and blood of many a name.
Perhaps some trick of a fragmented mind,
That does suffocate in invisible bind.
"Oh there... there... there she is,"
She tosses and turns on sheets
Fair like her;
Drenched in sweat, crumpled and collapsed,
Still real and kind.
Yet not soft pillows, nor the cold
Can steel her mind.
Nightmares so real and savage,
On nights her slumbers do ravage;
Tear her soul to shreds,
And a question haunting her again
Blurred but never fades.
"Who is she? That woman in white,"
Decked in Angel's gown;
A sadness so deep
On her pale face,
Yet Sara can see no frown.
Her face is frozen, pallid and still,
No wrinkle of life or blood;
Her eyes too, aghast and sad,
Locked in a grieving stare;
She sinks to the bottom of waters dark
Lifeless limbs floating and bare.
Night past night, Sara does fight,
She does try to find;
But though she feels the salty sea breeze
With bile of death unkind,
She knows not the woman of sea
"And yet I knows she's a part of me..."
The vision turns uglier still
With sound of bullets fired;
With scent of gunpowder and blood,
A man falls, shocked and tired.
For a moment she sees
The faint blue eyes,
The sharp curve of nose,
That floating gold hair of his;
And while he falls with lifeless grace,
In silver light it glows.
"No" shrieks the woman in white;
Her shimmering form
Dainty but tight;
Tears are none,
Only terror in those dark eyes,
She has seen the murder of love,
No sound, no calls no cries.
The ocean so large but
Stunned and still;
Beneath a floating boat…
The night a blur to vision then
And fallen, without hope.
The moon does shine,
A creak in its glow;
As clouds cover her face.
The woman in white stoned and lost,
Finds death to embrace.
She sinks in moments,
Gone… Gone and Gone…
Lost and frozen in dark and deep
Grave waters forlorn.
Then the last shadow of night
Comes to life on deck;
The wooden floors scream in anguish,
Heavy steps come to pass on deck.
A pistol in hand,
With none to follow and nowhere to return;
He comes to life on deck.
They say he was handsome once,
With dark hair and pinewood eyes,
Now a hollow face, a tainted soul
he stood alone and unwhole;
Marred by guilt of passion,
A corpse with a heartless hole.
A blink, a wink; a fuzzy haze
And does Sara awake;
Calamities gone leaving marks and stains
Do slander her waking self.
What is it that makes her see,
Images false or real they be,
Night and night again?
What is it that she can hope to gain,
From tales gory and gloomy as such
Or confounding riddles of pain;
That haunt her when the blonde man dies,
Night and night again.
A photo old and by her bed,
Three smiling faces etched in grey,
One her grandmother she never met,
With two men she did befriend.
Yet she loved that antique piece,
Showing the beauty Catherine
And a dark haired Alexander too,
With white haired Shane
Beaming in between.
Sara knew Cathy was young,
When God claimed her life;
But the two men, she did not know,
were with her at that time.
Fate perhaps or lust of men,
twisted the happy grins;
But death arrived hours soon,
On a boat atop the Atlantic,
That drowned beneath the moon.
- Arnab Chakraborty & Irene S
{P.S.- This is a new verse based on my previous poems.. "The Final Showdown CAS(PART 1)" & "The Final Showdown CAS(PART 2)-The Strange Life of Sara Thomas." The continuation is written by Arnab Chakraborty "Tales of Sleepless Nights" on his perception on my story.. :) }
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