I no longer know what I am or who I appear to be.
I am a mask; the rest of me remains unseen.

Lost in a sea of broken mirrors,
But nothing grows clearer;

All I am is the glint in your dying eyes,
Quietly drowning in my hollow lies.

I know not who I am or what I do;
All I know is in this pool of scarlet hue.

Thy hair brightly burns as the fire in thine eyes.
Ardent lips kiss my fissured heart
As I remain blind to thy frail lies.

Beside thee, writhes the demon of thy soul;
Acidulous words leave thy tongue
And I prepare to plummet whole

Into the golden sleep of thine asphyxiating air.
Tears bleed as I follow
Thy seraphic beauty fair.

As I close my eyes and wade into the quietus of this dream,
Tilt my head back and begin to fall,
I put all my cherished hopes in thee.

So sweet is the raz'r of thy tongue
That hath from my flesh stole
My vigour young
And my heart made cold

By thy caustic speech;
Off thy lips shot,
Pluck'd my heart's petals each
And cause my veins to clot.

So sweet is the torment wrought
By thy tongue sharp
And my heart stopp'd
From thy lungs' wretch'd harp.

What was lost in your Nyctophilic heart?
What life you brazenly stole.
What you take when you depart
And tear away from my soul

Mislaid, descried in sound recondite.
Quietus forward brought,
Found in your eyeless sight.
Agony of memories forgot.

Sable veins wrapped around fragile beings
Who, in wretched love lost,
Find their hearts fleeing
And to each other dyingly accost.

Blooden'd tears fall upon
Thy tender cheek.
A hollow chime is laid
Bare on swollen ears.

The blank canvas of thy
Body lies still like a mirror'd
Pool in aspect of night's
Algid face of innocence.

Under evocative, tragic skies,
In the fields of summer bright,
Lost in lamentation's hue
Thy death as sweet as roses' bloom.

In the sea of dawn where all do well, the calm of his people has broken. Once-coddled infants, wrapped in shades, compose the cobble trail beneath their frantic gait. Ruination of palatial temples. Debauchery of the sage who is misshapen, misspoken. The serpentine begets dear tempest in steeplechase of sate. The incalculable herd of vermin across the earth cascade. Eyeless they stream, dripping roses, wont to asylum. Demented, as each ivory beam shatters.
They fall like infants beneath this mad promenade.

Death casts her spell
Madness me overtakes
Misery within does swell
And Hell's lyric she spake