At the table where stones were cut
I bled with rivers of blood, oozing
destroying the earth beneath my feet
I signed and replies ruled,flowing
as the roaring groaning gowned

Seemly, overlooking spatial glow
like an untamable word it ruled
with fists and haunted hits that roll
to the very grave of Mrs Crawley
right at the entrance of a cathedral

Love is just a foolish affair of lust
as you give the vampires your feast
such a list of empires to vile sires
taking, mating, making, hating
in foolish mazes of mere lost lies

At a window where light overlooks
the revelation that has been said
at the cobblestone path taken
by the very hand of the inner self
tranced by the ridiculous gesture

At the torrent winds of heartbeats
waiting for bubbles of affliction
and all the socialized inflections
tenses affections of timeless ridicule
memorized in tounges of exceptions