As the lilies weep in wanton air
Does the lion that treads hither spare
Neither thought nor heart or even care
For the broken corpse just lying there

The moon is bright
The stars are heavy
Anchors of light
Holding steady

They breathe with the motion
Of a thousand waves
Little dots in an ocean
Swimming to forgotten graves

When sunlight rises
Over the bold horizon
Their twisted shadows burn
In shallow crisis

Wreathed in fire
Their flames die out
Like candles to a pyre
Or thirst to a drought

Soft satin lashes
On smooth velvet skin
Dark locks crash
Upon shores of honeyed sin

Lilting orbs like stars
Burning flesh away
Gentle strokes so far
Further day by day

Empty whispers gone
I have nothing left to say
Drifting towards the dawn
Purple skies are turning grey

The fires burn deep in the blackened night
Soft hues shifting, everlasting light
Subtle throes of twisted agony
Sweet caresses tell the tale of tragedy
She squirms and moves, hips sliding delicately
A lithe creature from a nightmare, seduces me
A voice like a siren cries into the forbidden night
A world in ecstasy sings to nature’s blight
Wet furtive movements, soft gentle moans
Escaping from the throat, of the angel of Rome

A shrieking Harlot
Bequeaths my ears with sound
Forbidden, so tainted, her breast a shivering mound
I love her, I hate her
Erratic, writhing, torment, agony, upon the ground
Love lost, pleasure found, a world in turmoil
A man drowned

A layer of mud, caked over a hollow can. Rusted tin, a broken man. Kicked on down the crooked road, past the hollow shells that some called homes. Down the peeling yellow lines, past the wind torn soldier pines. White ash replicas of organic times. Broken bones and unanswered crimes. Blood spilled red is caked on brown. A hollow circlet, a corpse's crown. Syanarra and sweet good byes. Black veiled eyes gazing out like dots on dies. Eerie portals, the Devil's spies. Open mouths, silent still but speaking lies

Deceit, my throne
Agony, my crown
Within an ocean of tears, the silent man drowns
Pain so clear, across this grim façade
Life serene, cut so close, by this paper god
This seed of market and stock, supply and demand
The story of capitalism written by greed’s melancholy hand
A story so sad, imbued with regret
Consumerism the tragedy- heresy is debt

She hates me
With a fire so bright it hurts
She hates me
Her mouth curls and twitches in spurts
She watches me
Eyes like anvils, sinking into my soul
She sees me
Betraying all the compassion of a hot coal
She wants me
Dead upon her floor
She needs me
To bleed like others that came before