A Burning Grief

A burning grief shone in my heart like an everlasting flame in the middle of the night, when no creature of the magic oak forest dared to sing. An impetuous waft surrounded me like an ineluctable fate plotting behind my back, as the darkness would make me fade from sight. While an eagle-owl was my oracle whispering enigmas and revealing riddles, a tempest cast its sinister gaze on me as an ominous presage. The cloudy sky embellished the night with gloomy hues and wrapped the stars, too fearful to be seen, whilst the moon concealed its countenance behind an immense thunderhead. No impetuous trepidation could have been placed in my heart, at that very moment when I realised that the ghosts of my archaic past had left me in agony for so long a time. Nothing more could have been a reason for delight, once I discovered the pure emptiness of my existence made of dust and decay. Broken vows and erratic dreams departed from my modest dwelling, leaving a trail of withered flowers and oak scent. The most intrinsic essence of my existence was soaked with black tea, mint and vanilla. A burning grief kept its everlasting flame alive like a torch blazing in my heart, never leaving me for eternity. The chimes of an antique longcase clock resounded all over the oak forest, evoking wonder and apprehension. I felt a tremendous distress causing my agony to persist in its overwhelming purpose, and I believed that nothing anymore was really significant enough to influence my peculiar fate now that the darkness had welcomed every dream of mine. Alas, that burning grief not only had conquered my heart but it didn’t hesitate to defeat all my defences. Once again I could be allowed to win my reward for such a monumental sorrow since nightmares enclosed me even more than before.
Elisabetta Esther