The White Lady and the Anguished Poet

cold alone

rejection and discontent

bitter life can be

harsh reality is

why did the white lady Depart?

how my heart doth ache at her leave

unrelenting and cruel the winds of this brutal world are

ripping down upon my back

like lashes from the enraged masters whip

oh paradise where art thou

I awoke this morn’ to find you’ve gone in the night ere I woke

gone with out soft words of farewell

how so?

and takest thou hast the white lady so fair


God in heaven seems to be absent

alone I feel


and in need

in a place where there is not even the water to quench a lightly parched throat

oh if I could be as Dente and be escorted out of this true inferno and steered to Paradisio!

But alas it is not so!

reality is harsh

life is bitter

and neither show signs of ceasing

glad I should be

life is a gift

but only to a worthy receiver

ere I came into the world man hast toiled in love

was he wrong?

ere I came into the world man hast quested for knowledge

was he wrong?

should the hearts content be before the mind or is the mind of more importance?

of what use is a mind with a discontented heart

or a heart that is missing its core

a hollow heart is an ill fated man

ill fated men have ill fated minds

so better he end the hollow heart before it deem the mind ill fated

alone Dente stood at the base of a hill

but out of the wood came a shade of good hope

alone I stand at the base of a mount’

no shade for me the unworthy man

alone I shall be ages and ages hence

when all has grown gray

and faded mine eyes are

a lonely octogenarian I shall be

ever overt to the harsh winds

I wonder really if I shall survive to be that lonely octogenarian

wish I do

and oh if God would grant that wish

I’d have an ombudsman to bring back paradise or at the least the white lady

ere I knew her nothing I was

in existence to be trounced

overt to all

overt to fate

overt to the pot shots of the dark man

oh reality is harsh and brutal

gone is my joy

oh return to me white lady ere its to late!

fate doth creep nearer

and when it doth call, I fear,

unable to say no I shall be

trounced by fate

fate in his raven black cloak

tattered and weathered by age after age of dealing out kismet

dark and sullen his facade is

ever hidden it shall remain

shadowed in darkness

shrouded in mystery

his red eyes pierce out into the night

the only feature of his façade visible

dark fiery gems of doom they be

elusive and oppressive

needing no window to view the soul

oh that I could be covert to his eyes

avoid his glance

the call of his voice

and the touch of his icy hand

alone I go now to the edge of mine wood

to sit and wait

for what I know not

only time will tell

I feel that I shall be thus for ages and ages hence

alone on the edge awaiting fate or the white lady

which I know not

trouble I have remembering if truly the white lady doth exist

but remember quite well that fate still lingers

seems to be a pleasant dream the white lady does

a pleasant contentment left over from last nights slumber

but as dreams do

I feel it fade

and a longing for its return arise in its place

Oh return to me my white lady great god!

or bring me to thy bosom and let me cry

the tears of anguish doth roll and bead in futility down my wind raw face

burn their salty substance does across the open wounds of misery

dry my tears lord and return me to thy care

in the end I suppose we may meet again white lady

but tiss not enough to know that time many fathoms away

under Gods great wing

we shall meet again

tiss the ages between

causing the great quaking of mine knees

Oh that God would return you white lady

into mine loving arms

that I might hold you again

ere the night doth come and the sun sink to realms unknown

to be there with you white lady

in the dark under lady moon in her pail eerie light

that we might gaze together at long

into the heavens and behold the great spectacle of stars across the night

Oh that God might place in me the skill

to do justice in verse to the great fires of anguish that doth burn in my soul

that from my pen would fall the words of description

overt to all

universally descriptive to even the most vexed of man

that God would bestow unto me such a gift would be to feel a warm ray of light allowed to stray from heaven to warm my head

but alas tiss not to be

only the absence of mine white lady

the white lady

that she the white lady be the fairest of all

her silken robes doth shimmer with the white brilliance of her purity

and glow with the vivacious glimmer of her soul

that she is the lantern in the dark

the torch of redemption to the heart of man

oh that that torch might shine on me!

reaching out from a far to beckon me on!

come to me bright beacon!

reveal to mine eyes the true path of the heart!

show me your presence in the night

that we might comfort each other

that heartsick lovers might kiss

and be heartsick no more

that their hands could meet and be clutched with joy

that they might be joined together before God

and be seen as one

Oh white lady return

return to me the white lady great god

or bring me to thy bosom that I might cry

have mercy great god

back into the wood I do wander

where I go hence forth with out a path I know not

but to you I go white lady

to the ends of the earth

to realms unknown

to the fires of hell

and the heights of heaven

never shall I cease in my wandering

never till we meet before god!

my feet shall weather and bleed

my throat will parch and froth with blood

my eyes will droop with exhaustion

but never shall I stoop to drink from the quiet brook to quench my throat

never shall I sit and rest my bloody blistered feet

never shall I lay in the soft grass upon a summers eve or upon a soft bed to rest mine eyes

never till reunited we are

you and I

the white lady and the anguished poet together as one before God!

- Izod