Love Is

platonic allegiance and virtual dementia crowd this room as life is washed away the agony is sweeter than coagulate decay burning sound and blinding noise fight the need to scream or give in and live the dream bloody towers, faltered steps to act out a purposed overthrow capacity for agony is quick to come and go while branding iron alone brings tears and moans of pure despair sit cold and silent on his lips a deadly, dreadful prayer in a room of rending, unending night on a bed of rope and steel amidst feverish dreams, cacophonies there is pain still left to feel the watchful, apathetic eyes stay vigilant from the start for agonies with no reprieve to a barely beating heart silence not so momentary when all is said and done depleted strength to fight the bullet hiding in his gun