Open thee skies, come down, come down, open thee skies come down, where silence sounds, where silence sounds.
A soft touch of air lights down on her shadowed nose, in the coldest of winter, in best of her dreams, she climbs through the storm, and counts as she goes. The seams of her thoughts the daemons take hold. Blonde locks of her hair freeze to her cheeks, a character flaw, when she’s not pretty and neat. The gentleman waiting, her husband some said, cares not for her soul, like the one enclosed, in memories of light that she’s had. One hundred and ninety-nine steps, steady not led, a shiny eyed specter, a past that’s not dead. Her eyes on the goal, somewhere, she knows, another world it waits, so different, then Whitby. There beyond the reach of her still living breath it flows. She’s still not a princess, a lady of class, yet now all those whispers tell her instead, she’s the queen that’s unbridled to ghost in her head. A wanton fire in need of the king’s bed. The whisper’s say, he’s just ahead.
An unmoving light in darkness, reflecting on the snow, the empty still, still darkness, not empty that, she knows. The Abbey a high place, a graveyard for the mass, the place her grandmother Lucy taught her of the pact. The contract in the shadows, the moving of the blessed, the points that part the curtains, when there’s nothing to hold her back. She thinks herself, an angel now, no broken wings, from her past now, no memory how he dragged her cross the floor, and beat her till she cried, the blood it ran, to something outside. They came those specters how they replied. Tore his thickened bones, with a curse they moaned. In your coven’s name, a culture oh, our sweet Beth your designation we claim.
She moves past stones her face now clearer, the whirling snow of judgment with her. The clouds they break, and all things are with her, now. And through it all her history heard her, she thought them lost, but how they drew her to this final place.
And Beth she calls the Daemon down, from this lost Abbey, the howling sounds, and from across the space of time and grace, her life of bruises becomes replaced. Elisheba, come and be my bride.
Open thee skies, come down, come down, open thee skies come down, where silence sounds, where silence sounds. – 05.23.2017 – דָּנִיֵּאל
Excellent Daniel and bravo, bravo, you brought shivers to my skin, the best after Lucy of the Whitby Ladies in my own opinion.
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Hi King, thanks for a great comment. Happy you like this. Best result for the writer is to hear shivers. 😉
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You gave me those alright sir, as you do from time to time. IMHO your Goth is your best.
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Mysterious writing Daniel, and the underlying meaning although somber, reveals wonder in the end. You took me there.
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Hi Desiree, Thank you for bringing up the underlying meaning, and the conclusion. So happy you liked this.
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I have become accustomed to looking between the lines on your prose. That is where the real truth rest itself. At least for me.
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How I have looked forward to this piece, and now here it is. Deeper than Madison Poe, which I loved the most, this one will stay with me longer. 🙂
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Hi Lace. Thank you. Madison Poe for me was spunkier, and Elisheba much more sombre. Happy you like it.
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Your welcome, and I am now awaiting the next episode!!! 🙂
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The mystique is strong with this one, but it is my favorite. ❤
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Thank you Dawn, happy it’s the favorite. 🙂
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I was thinking this might be the day, that you added to the Whitby Ladies, and I was correct. Daniel I don’t know where to begin, this is pure occult art, and Mike Masse’s cover of Beth, was just wonderful. I LOVE it! ❤ ❤ ❤
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Hi Ruby, I probably shouldn’t admit it but I am and always was a KISS fan. Thank you as always for a wonderful comment.
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Dear Daniel, I knew you were a KISS man! 😉 Beth is my favorite song. 😉
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This one’s a treasure sir! 😉
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Hi Destiny, I thank you for your kind comment. Happy you liked it. Daniel
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My old heart is beating, and I’m in love again with another Whitby character, if you ever make it a book, I shall die in happiness. Well done Daniel!
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Hi Brother, my old heart beats fast too, but more from too much carbohydrates, and stuff I shouldn’t drink. Thank you so much Dennis, you made my day. 🙂
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Daniel my brother, we are indeed that, and probably drinking the same strong drink that we should not. Keep writing my wonderful friend, it is what you were meant to do.
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Thank you Dennis, I really appreciate that.
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I always wonder are you just sitting there, and these characters suddenly appear, or have they been with you a long time? This is marvelous work!
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Thank you Summer. I think they have always been with me. A wonderful neurosis you have given me to obsess over. 🙂
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You would be a the most interesting person I know to spend a few hours with talking, serious about that, I am.
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❤
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Thank you Layla. 🙂
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A wonderful gothic short piece Daniel. My mind is spinning adding in all the pictures, from the suggestive lines. I adore the Whitby Ladies!!!
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Hi Diana, I am thrilled you like the ladies. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
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Yes Sir, you did it right, better than I could have hoped for, you really need to write this all into a book… ❤
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Thank you Heather, the Hardy Boys come first but maybe then…. 😉 Thank you for always reading and commenting
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Of course Frank and Joe come first, but then the rest of our needs must be met.
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Are you saying you don’t like Frank and Joe? 😉
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I do actually like them, but the witches come first.
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I find you are a master at the subtle, the hinted at but not said. This is a masterpiece, and I shall read it and share it and read it again.
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A great honor for me Lynette as always when you comment. Thank you. 🙂
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I am reminded and I believe you have reminded me, the subtle is sublime. Your welcome my writing friend.
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I truly enjoyed this Daniel, keep them coming! 🙂
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Thank you Tansy. 🙂
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My favorite line, “Tore his thickened bones, with a curse they moaned.” 😉
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And there you have it Kat, my meaning to the whole sorry affair. Karma. Thank you for getting it.
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Well of course! 🙂 and your very welcome, waiting for your next entry, hopefully soon.
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Daniel I have been following the “Whitby Ladies” with great interest, and for me this was a favorite. Lucy was wonderful as well, but this had a hidden savage bite so as to speak in it.
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Hi Darrin, thank you for a wonderful comment. I wasn’t sure if the realism would get through on this, but great comments such as yours assures me that it has. Thank you. Daniel
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Your welcome, can hardly wait for the next one!
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Daniel, such beauty in the dark. Stunning writing and the images you’ve created are wonderful. The Abbey references are haunting, a perfect backdrop. Please enjoy the rest of your week. ~ Mia
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Hi Mia, I was reminded after reading your wonderful comment how much i have missed you in this forum. Thank you, somehow, I knew you would appreciate the Abbey, probably just dumb luck on my part. 😉 have a great evening Mia. Daniel
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You’re welcome Daniel, perhaps providence. Please enjoy your Friday. ~ Mia
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Your writing is very different. I really enjoyed this, it doesn’t fit into a box. I will be back.
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Thank you very much Destiny, and welcome.
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As ancient and steeped in mystery and misery this is, I see today, now, many women with broken brow and still much hope for love and blessings.
Wonderful piece, Daniel!
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You got that right my friend. Too many looking for love in something dark. Real love given, real love received. 😃
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Ah, the steps to the abbey and breath-stealing prose.
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Thank you, once again you honor me.😉
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Not at all. I love your work. It’s delicious to read.
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😊
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