Sleeping

H. C. Sluys

In shadowed keep on black and dreary cape,
A maiden lies upon a dusty bed
She strikes a calm and rather peaceful shape
Her hair like flaxen dawn, her lips rose-red

Her fingers delicately so entwine
The silken sheets which rest against her dress
This one display the only outward sign
Of inner conflict, shattered heart's distress

She twists about in worlds of dark and gray
With eyes as blue and wild as the bay
And panicking, her hair gone all astray
She stretches out her arm as if to say
"I need to be awakened by your kiss
To light of day that I so harshly miss
So that my torment, fast replaced by bliss
Can nevermore ensnare my life like this."

A thousand years she spends in her repose
While cities rise and fall, while children die
Decay begins to claim her splendid clothes
Yet neither age nor death are on her nigh

When cursed with nightmares, sleep is often light
Yet naught can cause the slightest little stir
Except the lips of some warm-hearted knight
Who fights his way through years to come to her.

She twists about in worlds of dark and gray
With eyes as blue and wild as the bay
And panicking, her hair gone all astray
She stretches out her arm as if to say
"I need to be awakened by your kiss
To light of day that I so harshly miss
So that my torment, fast replaced by bliss
Can nevermore ensnare my life like this."

Oh pray that this true knight so good and pure
Will wrap her in his cloak and break the spell
That binds her in a pain that doth endure
Like songs of burning angels down in hell

When she can gaze once more at skies above
She and her knight shall dance; perhaps he'll sing
"A tribute, nay, a requiem, my love
To all the sorrow that a witch can bring."

July 15, 2003