Mine She Is Not

I wear blinders of my own ignorant Creation I stumble aimlessly albeit Backwards into a pile heaped with The stench of her own devilish lust To feast upon my immortal weaknesses I am but a moth still wrapped in a cocoon Of my immorality drawn to the chalky Silhouette of her naked flame sacrificed Before her twin idols those mounds of Tasteless rosy flesh I pray to daily an Ancient Goddess between her thighs She grants all desires with guilt ridden Ecstasy while I languish her honour With songs of praise in my own foreign Tongue or she has me use my hands and I build her wet sand castles my words Leap from the lips of her tower wrapped In a grey blanket of frozen mist my angel Wings flap uselessly feathers have withered Away into nothing but bony scars and they Litter my descent into rainbow coloured Oblivion bad dreams of butterflies and they Gorge themselves of my soul death is a Welcomed house guest my new exciting Lover and I lust for her body each moment She does not let me come into her presence An emotional abortion of our love child before I sire death’s bastard I shall hang myself from The threads of the lover she does not want Me to become the man of her dreams is A faceless jester me in the court of a King a Queen mine she is not