A short poem





I don’t want to keep
anything for ever.
I would rather slither
into a darkening
swoon. The answer is Sleep,
deeper than deep,
the long sleep of Death—
and no awakening.

Why should I want it?
I’m already haunted
by pain, and being human.
I long to be free
from you, from me—
from old age, sickness, death,
and the ravening Demon.

No, I don’t want this!
I don’t want this really.
I desire merely
to escape Time’s river.
The Gardens of Bliss—
the lost, last kiss—
no more pain, no more death—
give me these forever!








Lasha Darkmoon

Dr Lasha Darkmoon (b.1978) is an Anglo-American ex-academic with higher degrees in Classics whose political articles and poems have been translated into several languages. Most of her political essays can be found at The Occidental Observer and The TruthSeeker. Her own website,, is now within the top 1 percent of websites in the world according to the Alexa ranking system.

28 thoughts to “Forever”

  1. hmm lash … given the strength of your faith, you end up in the absurd situation of a believer wishing to become an atheist.

    is there any point to divine without some aspect of spirit’s persistence beyond the mortal coil?

    giant karma sale due to overstock, deep discount while supplies last!!!

    i am no expert and thus left furiously scratching a groove into my head.

    i am an atheist because God is boring 🙂

    1. I can’t say I agree with your analysis over this very moving poem, friend Lobro. The first two verses are pretty despairing. They express a poignant longing for total annihilation — for “the long sleep of Death and no awakening.”

      But the third and final verse contradicts this: “No I don’t want this! I don’t want this really.” And what does she really want? She just wants to escape from “the River of Time”, i.e., from the transient world of suffering that Gautama Buddha deplores, i.e., from “old age, sickness and death.”

      She wants to step from Time into Eternity, the Timeless realm. She speaks of “the Gardens of Bliss.” This is an Islamic term frequently found in the Qur’an. The Gardens of Bliss, or simply “the Gardens”, are mentioned in sura after sura f the Qur’an. This is the abode of the Blessed ones, the “paradise garden” which remains a pretty constant motif in Darkmoon’s poetry.

      Darkmoon is filled with a passionate longing for heaven. A real heaven, not a metaphorical one! This can be seen especially in her poem The Gardens of Yearning:

      BTW, I used to lecture in English Literature once … so I’m good at deconstructing poems! 🙂

    2. “i am an atheist because God is boring.”

      Good for you! I am glad you think God is boring. And I am even gladder to think that Darkmoon is at last coming round to the universal viewpoint that we should ditch God and find solace in the Gardens of Sex.

      Fot that’s what all this “longing” and “yearning” is about, isn’t it? I have said many harsh things about Lasha Darkmoon, but I am now beginning to feel sorry for her. I see her as a highly sexed prude who secretly longs for the forbidden pleasures of the boudoir. She has forced herself to live like a nun, behind a metaphorical veil, and there she sits at her casement window like the Lady of Shallott … spinning her web of sickly dreams as the world passes by.

      A pale maiden sighing for the pale moon, sitting at her widown pining for this and that and dreaming of paradise gardens! Strewth! gimme a break! What she really wants is a damn good … but no, I won’t say it … or Lucy Skipping will be sending me a stern message demanding an apology! 🙂

      Sorry, much as I’d like to, I’m not gonna do another Max Bilney!

      Darkmoon, get a life! Let down your raven hair! DEFROST, Ice Maiden!

    3. well, g (oops, :-)) friend ruthie,
      i have no doubt i have no doubt that you are a fierce deconstructor whether i just scratch the surface with feeble nails.

      i would have hard time finding folks who would turn down a shot at heaven, even one bounded by time, let alone the one stretching into all the dimensions of infinity and eternity, especially a real (carnal?) one, so lasha’s desire is understandable.
      i think that the only ones that would give such an opportunity a pass are … ahem, poets, eg, rimbaud or grandpa baudelaire (not baudeliar, surely – a string of smileys in various poses here), the ones who prefer partying in parisian storm sewers with assorted rockers, phantoms of the opera and heavy stoners.
      not a bad alternative, when i think about it …

      but let me posit another conscientious objector, eg, lobro.

      why not become an endurance athlete of morality and insist on training for the glorious finish to the tape, really empty the tank in that last mile, demolish the barriers of age, sickness and dying with aplomb?

      i don’t want to skip any grades, including aging, if i blow my opportunity to go feet first despite risk taking adventurism, at least face the uphill stretch like a man.

      i am reminded of some tibetan holy guy, who demonstrated dying to his students by saying “observe class, now i slip into death with my full consciousness intact”.
      he didn’t show up to collect his gold medal in the spiritual olympics but he damn well deserved it.

      1. by “baudeliar” i meant that maybe some of these poet guys are just striking a pose more antiheroic than warranted by the facts, some are truly self-destructive (dylan thomas), some just using the pose to get laid.

    4. lobro

      one can say they’re an atheist through various rumblings in the grey matter, but unless you have become detached from the heart in total cynicism and indifference to evil, you’re not an atheist. Nothing else defines it.

      Even when your thought process tells you, “if there was a God, then evil could not exist.” If you feel rage at who you know to be evil-doers and the results of their evil-doing, then join God’s club cause he’s just as pissed.

      Just the very fact that there are realities of evil infers that the status of Divine omnipotence and omnipresence has been ‘short-circuited’, so to speak. Or the word I like to use is “cloaked”. Such has become the power of it. One must come to this conclusion, otherwise any notions of there being a battle of “good vs. evil” would be impossible.

      lasha’s heart overwhelms her with sorrow for the World. No less than what Christ felt, which can also come in the form of rage at the flip of a switch. Flip it again and there’s the heart again singing, in say, the 3rd movement of Beethoven’s 9th.

      That’s Divinity.

  2. And when Death came, we thought we could leave all behind
    Only to wake up again and again …
    … and collect the same old mind,
    In the same time trap, where the sun forever rises and sets !
    Another day just begins, and always I’m the one who forgets
    That we are born only once …
    .. to dream lifetime after lifetime ….

      1. Written by yours truly, many many dark moons ago. Almost forgotten until Lasha’s poem refreshed my memory. Offered as a token of thanks for all her work .

        BTW, methinks poetry is no different from beauty …
        It draws life and colour …
        … from the eyes of the beholder !

    1. God doesn’t even know how he does what he does.

      Eternal mystery of Imagination

      He opens his eyes and Life is his dream through “us”

      With no time as far as he’s concerned

  3. Rivers of Time flow only in the human mind. Time is a human invention.
    Time is a term used by those wanting to produce fear…. All religions use it.
    Time is used as a word of limitation.
    Oxygen has been called the ‘element of Time.’

  4. “The conditioned souls want to quench their thirst, but they do not know where to find water. They give up the spot where there is actually a reservoir of water and run into the desert, where there is no water.”


    I remember

    1. “The conditioned souls want to quench their thirst, but they do not know where to find water. They give up the spot where there is actually a reservoir of water and run into the desert, where there is no water.”

      That is only for ‘conditioned souls’ caught in the mind-traps of religions.

      1. “Abandon all varieties of religion and just surrender unto Me. I shall deliver you from all sinful reactions. Do not fear.”

        “go and sin no more”

        Bg 18.66

      2. I shall endeavor to do so, hp. Thanks.

        ‘Sin’ means without…(sine – Latin). It references Without knowledge.

        “Go, and be ‘without knowledge’ no more.” (Since I have told you the deal.)

      3. I just took up some grape wine I had making in the cellar. Wish you and Lasha and Lobro and Brownhawk and Sardo were here to ‘quench your thirst’ with it. It turned-out well. Guess I’d better bottle it and not drink too much of it, this morning, as I am waiting on a plumber to help me rectify a problem I created by my LACK OF KNOWLEDGE 🙂 . Anyhow, I’ve got pear and watermelon wine making, too (and peaches for the brandy mash!). Maybe the plumber and I will get drunk, later, so if I get back on here, tonight, go figure…

  5. “O Allah! If I worship You for fear of Hell, burn me in Hell,
    and if I worship You in hope of Paradise, exclude me from Paradise.
    But if I worship You for Your Own sake,
    grudge me not Your everlasting Beauty.”

    – Rabia al Basri

  6. It was appropriate that Lasha posted this poem just before Kaminski’s piece about Francis Yockey’s ‘Imperium’. Both are illustrative of the frustration of the hope for a just and honest existence in reality. I read this poem late last night, then Kaminski’s piece this morning. Since learning of Francis Yockey in my early twenties, it has always made me sad to contemplate his demise and the frustration he must have felt at being so wronged for his right exposition (as Kaminski no doubt feels, sometimes; and as Lasha must often dred). Different ones of us have different ways of dealing with the realities we’re presented. (For me, I often like to laugh it off – like I got a GOOD laugh out of the brilliant lobro’s skit, above. 🙂 )

    Lasha has written a highly contemplative piece, here. I do not doubt that it speaks to many.

  7. It is not wisdom that leads a poet to compose his or her poetry but a wonderful imagination, kindled by deep feelings, felt and remembered either in peace or in pain. Cannot the same be said of Lasha Darkmoon? Yes, though hers is a silent wisdom, and not without a little bit of pain being discerned here and there.

  8. gilbert, the invite is much appreciated.

    grape wine, pear wine, watermelon wine, brandy-wine, hootch-wine, it is all marvelous stuff, great if not for the health then for the perception of health, more wine, less health, more perception of health is the blessed loop to pursue until properly looped.

    what you do is mix the wines into a big bowl, add fruit (fermented is better) for the sangria to ensure proper circulacion de sangre.

    checking flights out to washington dc this afternoon …

    don’t drink and blog while standing up in the driver’s seat, head and shoulders through the sunroof, steering with toes and denying holocaust.

    only max has that special 007 dispensation by appointment to his majesty the queen
    (my newest conspiracy theory: prince philip strangled her and stuffed her in a fridge in buckingham palace and is now playing a dual role like anthony perkins in “psycho”)

    1. In fact, Lobro, I think one of my buddies does just that! I sometimes am invited to his house (by his most excellent wife) for dinner – and I believe that is an oft-present concoction. What I’m trying to do, mainly, is ressurect and hone old-time skills, WHICH MAY SOON BE NEEDED to barter 🙂 . The fruit and sorghum sugar and spring water is here, and an old woman in the neighborhood keeps a stock of yeast (which I get from her), so all the stuff is ‘organic’. (Healthy drunk!)

      In fact, it would be a lot of fun to just stand aside and listen to y’all converse, while I make dinner (I’m a fair cook). Even Max (but he and I might get drunk and our dark sides would spoil the fun – but I imagine Lasha and her beautiful sister could placate that! Lol)

      If I weren’t so paranoid these days, I’d invite you down. Truly. I’m re-doing a bathroom in this house, and may even take-up residing here, at a later date. If I ever get to visit John Kaminski next spring, I’ll write him directions and trust him with them. 🙂

Comments are closed.