Excerpt: Darkness Clinging-Book One

Excerpt:
Darkness Clinging
Book One

By Julia-Anne Crow 2019

cronemay4Each spot of my honeyed body is a crucible of unseen torment, the tombstone of some perished kiss. Withal its beauty and its faultless grace, my body, my mind, my heart,  is a haunted place.

Clouded by tears, shredded by wind, ragged from their lies; ravaged by night, abandoned by day, those shadows within the gray; therein resides my house of flesh.

My mind has broken. My bone has cracked. My blood has clot. My heart has stopped. My flesh has rot.

I sleep the sleep of gray, where the gold and purple of living fall away. Here I lie beside the bustling of life, past pain or joy, desire or fear. I am the seeing, filled with life, dying of death. Shrouded in weeds, buried in sour soil. Silent I wait. There is no healing
where I decay. Nothing is sound. Everything an unheard scream. Silent, I wait. Waiting still, inside my house of flesh.

I must choose…sleep or madness. I go now to sleep that gray and soundless sleep. My shattered marrow becoming the silent nothing, the deafening darkness, the cold, oh so very cold emptiness. Warmed only by my pathetic native fire, that lean and flickering flame, lit upon my mortal hearth to comfort me in Autumn’s decay. For it may warm, if not the spirit or the heart, maybe, perhaps, at least my chilled bones yet awhile.

I ponder the thoughts of the dark dreaming. Are these not the words of some shadowed and cowardly devil flickering from within my living dust? Would it not be better to go mad and rave, to court the fair illusion of a greater fire? Or would it be more worthy of a life lived fully to let that gray and suffocating dust fill my lungs and bring my breaths to a crawl?

Coiled inside my empty belly, my serpent’s fiery tongue licks these cold, tired lips, and reveals this truth to me…

Death is death and even madness should soon play me false. Better to sleep, better to close the curtains tight against the treacherous laughter of the Light, and sleep with yet a little fire on the hearth. Then when the last torrid tongue flickers and is gone, the lucky sleeper knows it not.

I whisper inside my own ear, “Go now fair lady and sleep.”
My birth, my youth, my prime, my proud excess, my cosmic fall; it has become my mean prize of poverty and dull decline. My lean possessions now shrunk to fill a little box. All my senses, my delights, turned pale and leached of taste. All have ended, I am all that’s left to fill the silences between the ticks of time. I, my dearest, foolish self, becoming bloodless, reduced to a scentless draught that rusts my heart into a ticking clock.

So, now I sleep with the end, the Gray. Though blood and flesh not be shed, I have found the spire built from my haunted despair. My mirror of madness reflects only my dark perfection. For now and tomorrow and ever.

I am my own wolf sun, now colder than ice. No longer dancing in that musical moonlight. No longer graced with my human darkness clinging. That distant ruby-silver glow, fading from my sight, covering myself with dust, sleeping the sleep of the gray, forever cherished by the loyal and loving night.

Fuck. Really? I can’t even contemplate life’s inevitable regurgitating bullshit without analyzing it inside my head like some drunken, goth-like, poet. I mean, for fuck’s sake. Grow up buttercup.

~Julia-Anne Crow
Copyright 2019

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Blood’s Truth, Finds New Home in the Abyss

Re-post from my FB account:

Probably the last excerpt I will ever share from my book:

Page 88
The verity of time shall remember you as a child full of fear and imagined grace, a hollow husk, if you are remembered at all. And so, to you, in a sanguine whisper, Life utters, “Terminate your torment of love unsatisfied, of a life unfulfilled. Where shall this libber of souls be found? Where will the truth resound? Not here, not in the arms of ego and cultivated ignorance. There is not enough silence.”

Go into the sable forest, if you can bare the reality, and live among the “beasts” and “monsters.” Eat from the ruby apple, embrace your pain and tear the diseased veil of false-hoods from your rotting pulp.

Julia DarkRose Caples
Copyright 2016

This informational post is meant for those that care…
My apology. I forget, when I am writing, not everyone lives inside my head, Lol. I am pulling “Blood’s Truth,” off the shelf, not for a lack of sales or positive reviews. I am doing so for what I believe is the greater good, for all. Perhaps not my call to make, but there it is, it is made.
“A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies,” is still coming out this October. Thank you everyone for your concern. I am, as always, truly appreciative. 🙂

I am pulling my book, “Blood’s Truth,” off the shelves. I am having 100 copies printed, delivered to me and stored away for another generation…maybe, perhaps I will just bury them deep in the abyss.

Thank you beyond what I can convey in this Social Media post, to all those who believed in me and my work, and supported my book, no matter what.

~Julia DarkRose Caples
2018

 

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Southern Gothic Ascending

Please enjoy my newest  video preview for “The DarkRose Journal,” Issue 7~ReVamped.

Southern Gothic Ascending: Video Preview…

Southern Gothic Ascending

Julia DarkRose-Girl's Night Out Edit for Video Text

Because sometimes I forget that not everyone understands the world the way I do and quite often, many of those people have no fucking clue about what I am trying to communicate…

SOUTHERN GOTHIC
noun
1.
a literary genre depicting life in the southern US and featuring grotesque themes and imagery
Collins English Dictionary – Complete & Unabridged 2012 Digital Edition
© William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd. 1979, 1986 © HarperCollins
Publishers 1998, 2000, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2012

American Psychological Association (APA):
southern gothic. (n.d.). Collins English Dictionary – Complete & Unabridged 10th Edition. Retrieved March 20, 2018 from Dictionary.com website http://www.dictionary.com/browse/southern-gothic

ASCEND
Definition of ‘ascend’
Learner: ascendAmerican: ascend English: ascend Example sentences

ascend
(əsɛnd )
Word forms: ascends, ascending, ascended
1. transitive verb
If you ascend a hill or staircase, you go up it.
2. intransitive verb
If a staircase or path ascends, it leads up to a higher position.
3. intransitive verb
If something ascends, it moves up, usually vertically or into the air.
4. See also ascending
COBUILD Advanced English Dictionary. Copyright © HarperCollins Publishers

MORPHOLOGY
morphology in American
(mɔrˈfɑlədʒi ; môrfälˈəjē)
noun
1.
the branch of biology that deals with the form and structure of animals and plants
2.
a.
the branch of linguistics that deals with word structure and with functional changes in the forms of words, such as inflection and compounding
b.
the study of the structure, classification, and relationships of morphemes
3.
any scientific study of form and structure, as in physical geography
4.
form and structure, as of an organism, regarded as a whole
Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 4th Edition. Copyright © 2010 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. All rights reserved.

TAPROOT
aproot in American
(ˈtæpˌrut ; tapˈro̅otˌ)
noun
a main root, growing almost vertically downward, from which small branch roots spread out
Webster’s New World College Dictionary, 4th Edition. Copyright © 2010 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. All rights reserved.

THRESHOLD
threshold
Pronunciation /ˈθrɛʃˌhəʊld//ˈθrɛʃəʊld/
NOUN
1A strip of wood or stone forming the bottom of a doorway and crossed in entering a house or room.

‘he stood on the threshold of Sheila’s bedroom’
More example sentencesSynonyms
1.1in singular A point of entry or beginning.
‘she was on the threshold of a dazzling career’
More example sentencesSynonyms
1.2 The beginning of an airport runway on which an aircraft is attempting to land.
Example sentences
2The magnitude or intensity that must be exceeded for a certain reaction, phenomenon, result, or condition to occur or be manifested.

‘nothing happens until the signal passes the threshold’
as modifier ‘a threshold level’
© 2018 Oxford University Press

OLD-WORLD
Definition of ‘Old World’
Learner: old worldAmerican: Old World1American: Old World2American: old-worldEnglish: Old WorldEnglish: old-worldExample sentencesTrends
Word Frequency
old world
also Old World also old-world
adjective [ADJ n]
Old world is used to describe places and things that are or seem to be from an earlier period of history, and that look interesting or attractive.
The newcomers to the Village were attracted by its winding streets and Old World charm.
COBUILD Advanced English Dictionary. Copyright © HarperCollins Publishers

A Few Thought About Belief

A Few Thoughts about Belief…

From pillar to post humanity bounces, most not knowing what they actually believe about nearly any situation. Perhaps they believe what is most convenient at the time because of the people they are with. And maybe they jump the fence quickly when in a new setting. Values are sometimes talked about but not defined, and certainly not adhered to.

For many, it’s difficult to develop a strong sense of self, to have a very secure self-image when the parameters offered by a value system are lacking. Our values define who we are, who we choose to become and who we keep becoming. They offer us direction when making choices. They quietly demand that we behave responsibly. Living in concert with our values brings peace to our spiritual beings.

I wish for humanity, and especially members of the Vampire Community, for the days to be gone when many ride first one fence and then another, never knowing what side of any issue they honestly (as in looking within and being completely honest with yourself, not allowing delusions to govern your true thoughts) believe in.
An Affirmation:
“Today I will have a clarity about my true beliefs that I can appreciate. I know who I really am. I do know what it is I actually believe. All I need do is act accordingly.”

An excerpt from our book-“Blood’s Truth.”
“Faith and belief should be whatever you need them to be. Your belief and your faith in said belief, are, we hope, that which help you become and to keep becoming, the best human you can be. In the bigger picture it will only help our world move forward in a positive direction. Faith and belief should never, we think, be embraced out of fear of punishment and/or expectation of reward.
With that said…
May your empowerment commence!”

~Julia DarkRose

Samhain Evensong

Samhain Evensong

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I wrote this prose about an hour ago. This was inspired by the creation of my new Hallowe’en video for 2017, that will be released for public viewing, midnight tomorrow!

Until then, here is a peek at my new Hallowe’en Season prose, inspired by my current Artistic Alchemists creation.

Thank you for taking a moment to read my thoughts translated into a painting made out of words.

Side note: Many readers have mentioned that because I usually write my prose in a mixture of olde english and modern english, that they have trouble following along. I do not see it that way, at all. There are also just as many readers that do not have any problem deciphering my prose. I did, however, tone the mixture of olde and modern down a bit. Since the publication of my book-Blood’s Truth-I have a rather large number of new readers. So, for their sake, I toned it down. I do believe, however, that the story of Autumn that is told through this prose, is easy enough for most to unravel and, hopefully, find dark delight within.

Respectfully and quite Appreciative,
~Julia DarkRose Caples

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Samhain Evensong
© Julia DarkRose 2017

O spirit of illuminated night,
Spectre of blinding sun,
Web of the Darklight,
Sea of Wisdom’s reflection,
Mirror of madness,
Bringer of visions,
Shall we rejoice with thee in this season of change…
in this harvest of death?
Or shall we fly from thee into the comforting arms of Springtide?

The mind must split.
The marrow must chasm.
The blood must curdle.
The heart must cease.
The flesh must rot.

Elixir’s fade and potions fail.
The sweet, thick red wine, changed to foul, thin water.
The river of bright blood is dried upon the skin.

Art thou redemption?
Art thou damnation?
Shall we adore thee?
Should we abhor thee?

Beneath the skin of confusion,
Behold the bones of that which is true:

Human sheath lacking blood,
Bone lacking husk,
Spirit lacking bone.
Arise and be fed.
Arise to bone and flesh and blood.
This Samhain night,
Renewed by the dark gospel’s food.
Nevermore to thirst for mine,
Nor on my living limbs to dine.

Silver Serpent,
Silver Spider,
A mirror for our altered face…
We live again,
And we are so very fair!
The moon has risen and swayed the crimson tide.
In her dazzling Darklight,
The dead live again!
All are bewitching in her glimmer.

Bound within the alabaster web, be free;
Dancing in formless flame…
Now, live!

Maddened where madness is joy,
Hold fast to this frail thread,
Until the last of moonlight’s veil has been shed.

O moon, faeries glory, ghosts, and ghouls,
Art thou a beateous beast?
And are we not better for midnight’s beauty still?
Better her dance of bedazzled death,
Her passionate throes,
Than stillness in the grave.

Dance, dance, dance, in patterns of her fantastical, vibrating, change,
These decaying rags made whole,
Risen in her fevered, flaming, Cimmerian shade.
All our senses wear her infinite bright shadow,
Our cloak, forevermore…

Beneath the skin of confusion,
Behold the bones of that which is true:

We awaken fully, into a frenzy of bestial desires.
Once creatures, trapped by the burning sphere of daylight,
We gnawed at our house of flesh.
Ravaged by Night’s Mistress,
Old as the black nothing that does not end…

All that was dead is not dead.

The spirit is an inferno.
The spirit is eternal.
The spirit is one spirit-The spirit of all spirits.
And that One holds the Fire of the Cosmos.

Breathe now,
And so shall the Cosmos breathe,
And of its own breath shall the Cosmos be made anew.

Beneath the skin of confusion,
Behold the bones of that which is true:

Merry New Year!
The Darkness is upon us!
Rejoice!
Blessed is this, our Evensong…
Happy Samhian!

~Julia DarkRose

RavenMoon-1

Broken?

Broken?

 

Broken

All that we know and all that we understand has the potential to be broken…all. In knowing this, whether or not humanity has a deeper understanding of it or not, why do you (we) fight for, sacrifice for, endure for, feel pain for, self-doubt for, abuse and be abused for, and even die for, that which can (and for almost everyone, at some point) and will be broken?

I know why I do it. Do you know why you do it?

Once broken, it (whatever that might be) can never be put back together the way that it was before. Sometimes, once it is broken, we can pick up some of those pieces and create something new, something stronger, yet, even then, it will still have the ability to break, again.

So, why do we do it?

Is creating something new out of the broken, better? Is it stronger, or rather, does it have the potential to be stronger, to be, in some ways, superior? Is that which breaks, an inevitable circumstance/lesson in life without which we can not truly reach our fullest and probable inherent meaningfulness? Without the broken, is the apex of our transcendence truly possible?

I know why I do it. Do you know why you do it?

Do you even know that real happiness fills us with sadness and tears?

Do you even really know how beautiful your face truly is?

I know. Do you know?

~©Julia DarkRose 2017

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