Wonder how they came up ahead of me… she’d been leaking information to the enemy. A double agent. She loves me but it can’t be helped. It is her nature. Well don’t you know, my seductive charming spy mistress, that the fuse is lit. Your behavior, a recipe for calamity. We might be the epicenter, ground zero, but no one shall be spared. Everyone involved will be affected. A 360 degree firestorm of shrapnel. Just because. You needed more… to feel more beautiful, more wanted, more seductive, by more parties. Never enough. More.
Love lies spilling guts, from the mess up still partially beautiful. Face almost calm, not contorted. Pain is numbed as she disintegrates like vapour. But we’ve become a desert and it will not rain back for centuries.

expect evenings laced with longing
youth buried underneath experience
desperate greed
and
foregin efforts to conserve the lives we lead

reality grows afraid
-awake
of the lives men lead
nights go quiet
and memories are met with greed
children ask for endless summers
losing the chance to sleep
while voices whisper drunk poetry

She wants every poem
To be about her
She wants the foam
Of every wave
As the skintight
Dress of dusk;
Divine forces be her tailor
And every Olympian as
The servant-king
To every whim of hers

C'est la vie they said, but every moment they departed with the beautiful, delightful phrases that has mysteriously managed to distance itself from the that is you, you have failed again to realize the potential in you. You placed the burden in your mind, in the isolated chamber of yours, as if it's possible for you to fill in every inch of your sullen skeleton, you would. You have come to expect something that is living beyond the border of reality and in order for that to take into effect, the neglection of the genesis behind the seed of our life has to take place. Reality and truth, are the two things that have always been abandoned by greed and dishonesty that have been infesting our minds ever since we are doomed to feel the wrath of karma. We are the author of our own destiny and if we want to be happy, we should take control of the ship and for that to happen, I need a company to face the music and you are the reason that the ship is still afloat as it takes two to balance it. Everything is absurd but love.

I'm taunted by another,
Allured by the attention,
Polishing vanity to a reflective glaze,
Like a winner's cup, held up by the ears,
To display, kiss, and smudge,
Then returned to the rightful owner.
It's an enviable snare,
One may think is sincere,
From here, looking over there.

What have you sold?
Was it worth its weight in gold?
A votive lit for fifty cents,
A flame announcing you repent;
To beg your saint to intercede
To provide your worldly needs.

Was that your body up for sale;
What would you trade for the Holy Grail?
Sell a kidney or a lung,
Sell your lap top and your phone.
Sell the home, enslave the kids,
Offer all to the highest bid.

Simonize your sale tonight,
In the sun it shines bright;
Let the buyer drive the fraud,
After all, you're a demigod.

Have you sold your secret soul,
Your joie de vivre,
The living truth
For make-believe?

Sell it all in a sidewalk sale,
Sell your house, sell every nail;
Every brick and piece of wood,
The price you get is understood,
To get as much as one could.

We make the deal for personal gain,
Trangress against the light;
Stand in the shadow of the shadow
Of the master of the mill.

Add to coffers, sell off principles,
Buy a judge, sell a nation,
It's a photo-op donation.

Betray an ally, sell a friend,
Exploit the lonely til their end.
Abuse your office, hire a niece,
Family fortunes will increase.
Pander to hypocrisy - here it's called democracy.

These are not our personal sins,
But crimes against society,
Crimes against life.

Look upon our deadly works,
Ozymandias warned we should.

Should I be affectionate,
Or something exceedingly delicate?

Rich in love to the peak where it sickens
Yet exploring to where the darkness deepens

Seemingly beautiful with a lustful pride
My substantial desire for you will grow in size.

Not for petty songs or pure white roses
My hand points to where the problem poses-

a threat to your silky, blushed thighs
Will you expose your most precious prize?

I shall not wait 'til my hair fades silver
Nor to when the sweet fruit becomes bitter

O, now let us rest on fine cotton sheets!
For our passion is boiling and I do beseech

Do not let thy chastity be devoured by worms
Or my sprouting heart will firm

Lady, let us be feral birds!
Pecking away at our fleshy love

Is thou haunted by my sweet pea curse?
Heaven shall judge this yearning verse.