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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Deep in the darks of the ancient tomb where smoky white whispers drape the walls like tapestries of silence where succulent temptation meets the hunger of desire where the Sirens arise from their treasure rooms is where we thirsty men prepared for sin to be committed-- The women...so many women, all fluttering about the den like decadent fireplace aroma attracted our gazes from every angle, prisms of beauty and fascination each masters of allure, they were all-knowing of their curved angles and seduction they were the magicians and we were willing to pull any amount from our black hats to see their tricks it was, in its essence, a house of haunted mirrors showing us all the reflection of our invisible virtues We dined like lions that night-- at the flesh the women bit at their lips while we drank their wines..every, drop, in the house our fanged fury and carnal impulses mocked at romance and all it stood for so much so that the next morning was actually ashamed to arrive but when it did we all realized what we had done it was a ravage of the soul for all involved, a night of roars and future scratches to our Rosaries It was a grim tale told that night, scorched with wicked and sin it was one that no one was proud of, one we hoped would ultimately die with the whispers it was a tale we told in secret to help us forget not about the sins of our present but of the sins we were destined to commit for this was the doorstep to bloodshed only known by those in the Seventh Circle It was an evening to prepare ourselves for what was behind the Gates afire it was our fleeting moment to live like the Devil before we did his work it was a tale that I wish I was destined never to repeat if only the battles wouldn't continue to bloom February 17, 2016
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