moments
of Medusa's eyes

visions hardening
then crumbling
whilst still distracted
by the unwaivering allure
of come-hither eyes

oblivious to the dire
realm of quickly evaporating reality
left with thoughts, though
no choice but to revel
in the vampiric kiss
of a beautiful apocalypse

finding only empty castles
void of jest and princess alike
not lonely, but alone
crowned king
of thoughts already spoken
and days already dead.