Fragments from the Vault #012: Of Moonlit Glade in Fever'd Nocturne's Throes (Sonnet VII)

More information: Vivienne de Tabris | Witcher Wiki | Fandom

Toussaint, realm of mystery and magic. Photo credit: FetchQuester

Of moonlit glade in fever'd nocturne's throes

Where star relents its sanguine course to dusk,

Your ransom'd beauty cast in supple grove

Transfers my temple'd heart to wither'd husk -

The winsome wraith hath never so bewitch'd

One afear'd as I within yonder shade,

Yet I thirst for sweet death upon your lips

Of which the orchid and the bee doth crave -

This "curse" by creature's envious wrath thou scorns

Is but cleaved blessing for mine dampen'd eyes,

And song whose absence I discreetly mourn

The loveliest that mortals oft decry -

But as season's gold melds earth to frost,

By wing'd abandon I forsake youth lost.

Beauclair by moonlight. Photo credit: FetchQuester

- Lucy A.

***

Sources: The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Blood and Wine (CD Projekt Red/CD Projekt); fandom.com; Shakespeare's Sonnets; John Donne's Holy Sonnets

*Dedicated to those we have loved from afar.