I was always digging up the gold
Up out of the shadows
Of Love grown cold,
Mining the veins of precious blood
Thinking all I did was doing some good -
Old dreams new love.
Staring in the mirror at some distant kiss,
The parting glass, the goodbye bliss,
The cold blue lips,
Toiling there the two-backed beast -
I guarantee no-one resists, in this
Persists the myth.
But there's no happy ending,
A slave's a slave. No more
The delusion in pretending
There is joy in the cure -
I have always groomed for the ****,
Putting pressure on the will,
Be calm, be still.
But I've never loved prey more-so
Than when it fights me blow for blow,
The best Hello,
For the outcome is an anarchy of time -
They, It, What-ever, will be mine,
I'll be defined.
When I am gone from this Poetry
It will be read, I will be yet memory -
Know this of me.
With a logic of indisputability, know this of me,
My hunger will pull your fate to me
There is no happy ending,
A slave's a slave for sure -
No illusion in pretending
It will be for your pleasure,
Never, not ever a cure!