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The voided lovers Must never be seen. They cannot dance in the light of day, And the moon will not grace them with her gleam.
They may only embrace on the darkest of nights, They may only whisper sweet nothings in a crowd. They may only stroll hand in hand through forgotten streets, Where not even the lamplights dare to look down.
They will never feel the warmth on their lover’s skin, Only the cold acidity the wind provides. Yet embrace they do— Through the dark and glacial nights.
They make cathedrals of alleyways, Temples of whispered breath. Where every glance is sacred, And every touch defies death.
They are sunless, Moonless, Rid of light— Yet their love is never tuneless.
Their love is their dance, Their love is their light, Their love is the warmth On the cold winter’s night.
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Old English Version:
The voided lovers, cursed by fate, Must dwell in shadows, lone and late. They dare not dance 'neath sunlit skies, Nor bask where moonlight softly lies.
Their trysts are veiled in sable gloom, Their voices hushed, as though a tomb Had sealed their vows in silence deep— Where not e'en gaslight dares to creep.
The world, austere and cruelly drawn, Would scorn the touch their hands have known. So chill the wind, so sharp the air— Yet still they linger, pale and bare.
They fashion cathedrals from alleyways, Altars of breath, in spectral haze. Each glance a hymn, each touch defied The death that stalks where love must hide.
They are sunless, Moonless, Forsaken by flame— Yet hearts unlit bear passion's name.
Their love is their lantern, Their solace, their plight, Their warmth in the shivering Grasp of the night.
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This is a poem I wrote while bored and thinking of some of my friends from my DR's and OC's
I've been really getting into rewriting my poetry into old English because I think it makes it more romantic and melancholic
Let me know your thoughts on it!