When I hurt, a paradise sounds cursed,
I never reached the pelican's beak
You can't understand the salvation
vs conflicts deepened temptation.

A rusted plate greets me as I wait,
the sky swoops pick me up as bait,
and the nearby ant's nest is far less
the pain as they pinch sensitive skin.

Nearby wasps sweetened by the honey
is a myth of the hard dealing of money,
and a sweet little thing experiencing hell
never dreaming of that lonely of cells.

Musicians, producers of ruination
and yes, this Artist of Hello-Poetry
At least I admit to all things grim,
I can't be forgiven with a gentle hymn,
When what existed never a nymph
and worse could have been tragic,
if all my sins came alive of magic.
Fool eyes full of deceit of a twin.

Gently now as the heartbeat rests,
and fading as the artist rests in *******
of a love of a Goddess created stature
of bone marble and eye-lust statue.