So long, I've sung a solo so lonely --
An art already ailing of any amour --
Verses varying vibes of vague luridness --
Every note echoes a screech; erases all reason.

My mortality is no longer mine:
Enemies forever ensconce in every expectation of .

I wish I was enough for them
filling lives with luridness
at the same time falling short
with a lack they'll approve
alluring tease bereft of guile
an equal who knows their place
fair to eye to please the lust
still demure to reflect desire

maturity is confidence
blessed when life hits the ropes
an object for the pedestal
prized with a wisdom they proclaim
this is true, except when it's not
fateful youth fills the mind
no gender is safe in their age
when juicy fruit is what they're not

I'd be saint and the *****
which of these would they like?
one to sate a holy book
the other brings pleasure to the *****
both exist to fill this shell
available at a moment's whim
frightening those who realize
the same is found within their mind

strength is blessing for a time
with the source in life's realm
wisdom of a thousand days
attraction hung to tempt a world
sadly these are too much
enough blunt the simple mind
wanting all, demanding less
lest their state be then judged

conquest becomes the fashion
a prize to stalk and then to have
greatest thrill is the chase
anticipation of what comes next
until the quarry has been had
full in hand, revealing all
then the disgust arrives in full
a human being, not the dream

all of these evoke a rage
turned towards object that is craved
when contrary is called out
stating trickery has been found
or the crux is darker still
attempt to have the cake at hand?
power wants to have the ****
to eat the same while in command.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170713.