Friday, May 5

she walks not: a corruption of lord byron's 'she walks in beauty'

She runs in darkness from her fright
Of horrid thoughts and pitch-black skies
And all that's wretched in her sight
Meet in her horror-stricken eyes
Thus hurried to that long-lost light
Which Hades to gloomy May denies
One shade comes more, one breath comes less
Had half-impaired her nameless fears
Which wave in every raven tress
Or slyly darkens o'er her face
Were thoughts startlingly stealthily rest
How grim, how hideous is their place
So harshly painted o'er that brow
Ghoulish, gruesome, vespertine
The wounds that ache, the tears that flow
That tell of days in darkness spent
A mind at pain with mem'ries flawed
A heart whose love unrequited

Author's Note:
This poem is based on Lord Byron's "She Walks in Beauty".
Originally posted at

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