Nazi Paris

Do images of I appear in her thoughts? Or simply the fostering of quaint fantasies? Through all pandemonium paramour is sought Though warded within profound secrecy Frantic I plea for reprieve To recover voluminous wounds Renounce excuse to grieve Slaughter the walls of this cocoon 'Tis never known where time will guide us Underneath the sun she soaked hollow promises Issuing surreal decrees decayed of trust To romantic encounters she remains a novice Genuine amour long since faded Perennial you've become jaded