Forest, Gothic, Poetry

The Call of Arandüil | Poetry

Source : https://www.deviantart.com/aw-landscapes/art/Where-Darkness-rules-659019086
On darker days, when sorrow sets in
And heart beats fill the boundless void,
Alone - with no love, no hope, no kin -
The inner demons leave my soul destroyed.
Troubled and heavy-laden, I roam the woods
Amidst the towering pines of Arandüil.
Its solitude comforts my troubled moods.
My respite ‘n escape  from a world so cruel.

Hoodless forms rise from worn out heaps
Of perished, fallen and lifeless leaves. 
They rise in air, roused from deep sleeps
Enticed by spells that Arandüil weaves.
In the shadowy deep, I hear unearthly creeps
Of silent companions with a watchful eye.
Breaking my trance and startled by shrieks -
I hear soft moans and a pitiful cry.

Treading the limbs that sprawl the floor
I followed the voice that the damp wind bore
Perhaps, it was a creature from ancient lores.
That stayed in the deep since the days of yore.
But no! it was a voice I had heard before
‘Tis the voice of the one I call my own!
'Tis Lillien, my  beloved, the maiden I adore.
Who became a star while I dwell here alone.

Three springs and winters I spent by her side
Hand in hand under a bright and stormy sky.
No thoughts of tomorrow, all worries cast aside.
Two souls, deeply in love, my Lillien and I.
Till the angel of death laid her to eternal rest
So still she lay, her face radiant and blessed. 
She heaved my name in her dying breath.
Our ordinary love had been perfected by death.

In agony, in ecstasy, my blood had turned cold -
As she revealed the face I long sought to behold. 
Embracing in silence, speaking in words untold 
I let a tear slide down unable to withhold.
She glided towards me in robes of pearl white 
Moonbeams glistened, in death she shone bright.
Her lips quivered, her dark eyes met my own
I held her hands and entered a realm unknown.

Faded visions arose, whispers echoed round the glade
Locked in embrace, two souls lay in Arandüil’s shade.
The forest nymphs ‘n elves of this ancient woodland
Sang songs of olden days when she walked the land.  
They sang of wild lilies that bloomed on her touch
Of thimbleberry, pines and firs, she loved so much.
In the midst of this rapture, I lost track of time.
And watched all vanish when her cold lips met mine.

Amidst lichens and moss, I lay still on the mound
Over the spot where Lillien touched the ground.
No music, no nymphs, no elves, no Lillien in sight 
My senses lay shut on that cold December night.
Memories of Lillien arose in my mind’s inner eye.
Till my weary soul awakened at the lark’s first cry. 
As I gathered to leave I gazed on a rather odd sight
A snowy white lily bloomed in dawn’s early light.

© Copyright: Leah Chrestien. August 2020.  The post The call of Aranduil| Poetry first appeared on The Ecstatic Storyteller. The author reserves the right to the content.

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