The diaphanous hush whispers of the nightshade,
float upon petals red breeze,
like the ethereal crypt sigh of a crimson lachrymose fountain vein,
fully opening - to release;
Here I\'m a flock both unkindness ore murder,
vortices ghastly galleons in the shadows,
conjuring forth fore the damned,
manifestation of the damned-to-be,
drawing all into the benthic depths of the hollow,
where the cursed and the censured convene.
Debauchery;
Mh, cruel fate why must thy despairing flutters echoes utter my elegy,
be a paean to the - malediction of despair,
forever bound to the darkness that fuels my pleasure?
Should I let it claim me - as I claim you,
in orgiastic celebration of our darkest desires,
in this pas de deux of death and/ rebirth?
The violins mournful sigh echoes through the chambers of my mind,
as I pluck the strings tapestry of sorrow and longing;
My ghostly taloned fingers,
ballet dance across the - slender neck -
velvet vermillion succulent of - the instrument;
choking out a melody of loss - forgotten dreams.
Mellifluously orchestrated like a harp by a siren,
lamenting her next feast - fur a nibble, a two step,
itty bitty piece of me four beneath the sheets,
sanguinary abattoir hymn of skulls teeth whistling,
an unbridled rapturous solo refrains ultima -
ceased to breathe; nevermore.