The Pride Before the Storm

Longing for fire, with the sun in my hand though there's nothing I want, I resent the dark void, Layers of emptiness, lust and demand as I quest on for something resembling joy. Awed by the lion, aroused by the goat hypnotized by the serpent, ignoring the whole. Storms always coming, yet always remote as I abandon all consequence charged to my soul. Unholy tenderness hissed between teeth as life crawls from the ruins of Temples I'd built. Lovers beg mercy in face of the beast to be charred by the venom of chimeral guilt. Storm-chased imperial, Sire of unrest, resurrecting the ashes; perceptions of yore. Cynical fancies held tight to my breast while his brimstone-damped tongue leaves me thirsting for more. Naked excuses still grappling for clothes that deceptions have stitched into tangled designs. Perjured affections are loath to expose the true depth of vindictiveness seeded in mind. Racing ahead of Olympian rage and yet lost to the tempests of living desire weary and lonely enough to engage in a moment of stillness, to live or expire. Merely a second of pause and Chimera was gone but his Pride was unleashed, in my breast and transformed faces imperiled by injuries spawned into fronts of revenge, and emotional storms.