The Moor - Canto I

I. Wind stirred throughout the land, ascending dust to flight as I watched dusk paint the sky red in the coming of night, sitting on the branch of a dead cedar tree by a still water lake mesmerized by the sky's colours as the moon awakes; V. packs of wild boars trotted the outskirt hills in the finale of dusk when from the town came a horn, blown through a boar's tusk as the austere souls of the town lurked among bricked mud and walked in solace by the lake under a surreal sky of blood, IX. until by the traveling of hypnotic chants to where I stand I saw a young girl by the glassy lake, weeping into her hands: her angelic eyes gazed at me from behind long dark hair like watering marbles that burned my eyes to glare; XIII. she stood alone as an elegant statue where orchids grew while above her the sweet scented, golden butterfly's flew; she persisted to ask - "how's your body, how clean is your soul?" with a reply - "irises and secrets open the door with control;" XVII. this scene, a picture that I recognized from seeing her face with all the emptiness that eats my life to stay in place to a bleak pride of wild boars and a murder of crows - - my way to pursue the birds with no food in the burrow; XXI. together we sat by the lake under the crescent above as she told me her hand was given to man that she had no love, cracking the picture frame that I recognized to my mistake as a reaction to lead my way to what seemed to be fate; XXV. throwing ill dice of the cards which with I gambled we strolled the town's streets by the alluring flames of candles; our lips met in sin by the cenotaph ending the street where musicians' string enchanted the night's ambient heat, XXIX. looking upon her flawless beauty her very visage compelled, a glimpse of heaven where my mortal company fell, her lips intoxicating me like the great pleasures of wine - - "I am assailed by lust and love - my heart is thine... "