Please be gentle with criticism as this is my first attempt at poetry (which you'll probably be able to tell pretty soon) based on Heathcliff's distant preoccupation in the days just before his death. I'm still not quite satisfied with the end result, but reviews are appreciated.
HEATHCLIFF'S SCORE
I
How strange it is to seek
One's soul beneath the ground!
My deepest wish has been
To dig away the mound
Of earth that hides her
From my gaze, and to lie
Beside her still; for in
Those arms I hope to die.
In that longing, last embrace.
Yet in my heart I know
The Cathy that I yearn:
She does not lie below.
The chill and frosty shell
Betrays no spirit proud.
Fevered passion does not burn
The cold and marbled brow.
Fires do not spark from
Such hollow, lidless eyes.
Neither do the frozen lips
Release their moans and sighs.
Lustre bright does not alight
The tresses of her hair.
In this senseless, lifeless corpse?
She does not linger there.
Midnight does not surrender
This straying, seeking wight.
A darker shade within
The dark heart of the night.
Nor does she steal upon
The soft awak'ning morn.
It is the state of shadows,
The time 'twixt dusk and dawn
When ghosts are known to walk,
When the eye begins to see
The shapeless take on shape.
Then she will come to me.
II
A whisper in a dream,
A voice that called my name,
Beckoned to the lonely heath:
A wraith, a slave I came.
I let myself be guided,
Submitting to her will.
Impatience burned within
My unquiet heart until
A pinnacle of rock
That seared the sky became
My seat, my peak, my throne
That o'erlooked the plain.
A storm was drawing nigh:
Swift rolling thunder crashed
And split the sky asunder.
Through the flares that lightning flashed
And shafted through the clouds
Dimly could I see
Emptiness eternal.
I cried 'deliver me
From this confining world
Of bleak and bitter days!
From lonesome shrouded paths
That stretch out cold and grey!'
Breathless hush descended
The wild and wasted moor.
The wind was stilled, the clouds
Cleared; through the gloom I saw
The veiling fog dispel.
'Now is the time!' I thought
As wild hope flared and blazed,
My dreams and visions wrought
Her face, her form, her mould.
Fierce pride, complacency,
Betrayed the curt command:
'Reveal yourself to me!'
Even as I spoke, I felt
The ground begin to quake.
Terror seized me; up I leapt
And sought for an escape.
Falling rocks and unplumbed depths
Such faced me if I stayed,
Fooled by this mockery that
Sought only to waylay.
Through the tumult I felt a
Groan pass through the seat.
The Earth convulsed and opened wide
A chasm at my feet.
When the final tremors ceased
And look at last I dared,
Through mist I saw that you
Were waiting, silent there.
My soul became a point
Of fire, gone was all dismay.
Then it seemed my mortal
Outward flesh was stripped away.
Poised at the abyss
My fetters broken all,
I stood upon the brink
And dared to risk the fall.
With outstretched hands I reached
– But even as I sought
To clasp you tight and true! –
Reluctantly I caught
The unrelenting call of
A nearer, clearer voice.
I writhed, cried; yet it was
Against all will or choice,
Drawing me, calling me
Towards the wakeful day.
Your waiting ethereal form
Dissolved and blew away.
Waking restored substance,
And substance restored pain.
One fleeting sigh then you
Eluded me again.
My soul was bound to flesh
My flesh was bound to chains.
At your graveside I awoke,
It was silent, still, the same.
No ghost disturbed its peace
Though bitterly I wept
And tore up at the earth.
Your corpse, uncaring, slept.
III
How can I accept that you
Are gone eternally?
Fated to despair, I
Long only to be free.
Yet it seems the more
I strive to quench the fires,
The surer come those visions
That plague me with desires.
Then heavy bonds return
To deny my liberty
Until to live, to breathe
Is a mighty agony.
My God, how wrong I was
For all those times I wished
To tear myself from you
Truly am I punished!
Forced to writhe in torment,
The throbbing heart does burn
While frenzied I await
The day you may return.
Joy will seize my spirit
Fired with passions warm.
But until such time, the dark,
The thunder, and the storm.
Everyday a desert
Deprived the sight of you.
These craving pangs of madness
In vain I must subdue.
My only strength is vengeance.
You have become my sin.
To you alone I show
What dark thoughts lie within.
Hate me if you will, yet
It was for you I fell.
Death alone can claim me
To end this living hell.