Love’s Haunting Pursuit

Love’s Haunting Pursuit

written by: Edward Wraith

Lost in labyrinthine lanes of midnight’s embrace,
Where ghostly gas lamps gleam, weaving threads of lace.
Their luminescence lingers on wet cobblestone
Burdensome footsteps echo, hauntingly alone.

Through winding alleys, cloaked in evening dight,
Eldritch edifices enshroud the moon’s ethereal light,
The air lies still—a quiet chill, sharp and unkind,
As whisp’ring murmurs swirl, dark secrets entwined.

In the grim grip of night, ‘neath skies of storm,
Haunting laughter lingers—a prophetic veil is torn.
A black rose blooms beneath the moon’s ghostly glare,
As Love’s beauty burgeons, unfurling despair.

I’ve tasted the bitterness of love’s deceit,
The sting of betrayal and its sinking retreat,
For amidst the shards of shattered dreams,
Love’s touch may sooth the scars unseen.

I wander this city’s wet, winding maze,
A seeker of love and all her wondrous ways,
With passions ablaze, though my heart’s tattered and torn,
In love’s haunting pursuit, forever forlorn.

NOTE:

Based on the Prompt – Echoes of a Silent City

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Edward Wraith

Edward Wraith, a phantom poet hailing from an 18th-century Massachusetts town, is a spectral wordsmith and conjurer of the supernatural. In the quivering candlelight of Victorian parlors, where love was a dance shrouded in lace and whispers, I, Edward Wraith, find my poetic muse. Born with a penchant for the dark, gothic macabre, my verses unravel the intricate tales of love that unfolded in the shadows of that era. Victorian romance, with its elaborate courting rituals and clandestine exchanges, weaves itself into the fabric of my poetry. I draw inspiration from the subtle nuances of courtship, where a gloved hand extended meant more than mere touch—an intimate connection veiled in societal formalities. Yet, beyond the romantic façade, there lies a fascination with the macabre. The Victorian era’s obsession with death, mourning rituals, and the mysterious gave rise to a unique blend of romance and darkness. I delve into this juxtaposition, where love and the macabre intertwine like ivy on a Gothic arch.

Latest posts by Edward Wraith (see all)

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