She was listening. I knew she was there. Her ominous presence always beckoned our consciousness. Lost in our own sufferings, we would come to her. The soother and reminder of emotional suffering, lingering beneath starlight and moonlight...
They would murmur and mutter. Speak and accuse. Of her being a relentless harlot. Deceiver. Dark temptation. They would call her condescending names. Mark her unclean and an impurity among all things evil and grotesque. They say she is inhuman.She is. She is nothing but a wandering ghoul, filling passerby with her pains and sorrows. An ominous presence, foretelling mortals of impeding doom and calamity...
She was once so beautiful. A daughter of high nobility and wealth, her fair skin glistened like the fresh pearls of the endless seas. Her charm captivated the attention of many a nobleman. However, beautiful and extravagant she may be, her heart was never truly satisfied. Of lively parties and wealthy gentlemen. Of propriety and luxuries. Her heart was never sufficed. She would appear to be a very fortunate young woman. But her heart longingly wished for a different life...
She was staring. The young woman in heavenly robes peeked through the darkened trees. She was curious. She never witnessed a mortal this close before. Raiment withering with the wind, she longed for someone to converse with. One who could also cope with her emotions. She was lonely...
The time came for her to be married. Her parents hadn't worried, for they believed such profound beauty would never turn down a reluctant suitor. Yet, in her heart, these porcelain men never fulfilled her insurmountable longing. Never did they and she see the same clouds in the sky nor the same blazing sun in the horizon. Her romantic passions gradually blossomed every year, hoping for her true significant other to come. But every year since, she was greatly disappointed. All her fantasies would appear to be in vain. She soon grew tireless of the constant fools desperately trying to win her over. She was tired of the endless, trivial games of flattery and courtship. The young woman began to see her own being transforming into a folly of lascivious desires envisioned by reckless men. Woe begotten her heart...
Her mysterious silhouette swiveled with the wind. The paleness of her queer skin dampened through the trees. Unnoticed by society, she would wander through towns. Ere she would come. Ere she would go. Confusing the simplicity of civilization. Hearkening their adverse emotions, condemning their souls. The dubious wails and whispers of lament embellished the lustrous forests...
Her sweet charm gradually faded as countless of lustful suitors so eagerly and blindly attempted to court her. She would reply with forced grins as she took these empty flatteries. If this was how the nobility's life should be, full of materialistic and apathetic desires, then she no longer wanted to be involved. None of these mattered anymore. Nothing mattered. She grew tireless. Her parents grew tireless. Their daughter had grown many years without a successful proposal. They tried to convince her of marriage, now whence her hourglass was diminishing. On the other hand, she could care ever so less...
And she would beckon me come anon. Her hand awaited me. She had sensed my own emotions and offered comfort, the wakeful maiden. But, I merely stared back. She held no expression, for she requires none. Her motives aren't so easily misunderstood. Well, not to those who have also come across her anguish...
Her parents grew restless. They couldn't understand the child who hath overbore their wealth and attention. They thought of her as a gradual burden. Yet, the young woman was headstrong and grew ignorant. There was no such man that could ever fill her heart. Her once so peaceful songs altered into songs of anger and sorrow. The dove took flight yet was struck down, motionless. The raven now dominated its position...
She drew closer to me now. Slowly, steadily, moving with the wind that carried birds to warm, beautiful places. Whispers of melodic cries now replaced the slight breezes. Her songs of lament wove through the forest. I remained still. I was not afraid of her. I pitied the young woman, for her desires were broken...
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The Veiled Lady
PoetryI wrote this story because of a scene I saw in Pride & Prejudice where Elizabeth was observing the statue collection of Darcy's mansion. There was this pause of Elizabeth looking at a statue of a veiled woman, and then BAM! I knew I had to write a s...