Silver – stanza 11.2

He had no clear memory of their meeting
A Cardinal’s ball at the University, haunted
By specters and a glittering wealth of jewels
Across a crowded room, he caught her eye
Mesmerized through eternity at the gaze
Her name, her family, name at least, he never
Learned a name that didn’t last long between
Five years to start six hundred, he didn’t
Know when he started calling her Silver and
Certainly didn’t know if she’d been called
Silver before or if he’d coined the name
But everyone called her that now and some
Of them had known her long before he did
Poorly trained by a local crackpot, he studied
Alchemy; the studies led him to seek her advice
As whispers suggested she excelled in the black
Arts and they met in the library of a castle
On the Rhine, reading together old tomes
Of necromancy in search of forgotten truths
One deep and ominous night, Silver pulled
Down a volume from one of the back shelves
Opened the dusty book to a marked page
And with a long, elegant finger, pointed
To the word “WILL” written large atop the page
“Here is the secret of eternal life,” she said
“We cannot die without a failure of the will
By training and focusing our conscious will
We can contain our living essence and move
The seat of our will from one vessel to another”

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
This entry was posted in books, fiction, literature, novels, personal, poetry, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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