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Poem

The diaphanous hush whispers of the nightshade, 
float upon petals red breeze, 
like the ethereal crypt sigh of a crimson lachrymose fountain vein,
fully opening - to release;

Here I'm a flock both unkindness ore murder, 
vortices ghastly galleons in the shadows, 
conjuring forth fore the damned, 
manifestation of the damned-to-be, 
drawing all into the benthic depths of the hollow, 
where the cursed and the censured convene. 

Debauchery;

Mh, cruel fate why must thy despairing flutters echoes utter my elegy,
be a paean to the - malediction of despair, 
forever bound to the darkness that fuels my pleasure?

Should I let it claim me - as I claim you, 
in orgiastic celebration of our darkest desires, 
in this pas de deux of death and/ rebirth?

The violins mournful sigh echoes through the chambers of my mind, 
as I pluck the strings tapestry of sorrow and longing;

My ghostly taloned fingers, 
ballet dance across the - slender neck -
velvet vermillion succulent of - the instrument;
choking out a melody of loss - forgotten dreams.

Mellifluously orchestrated like a harp by a siren,
lamenting her next feast - fur a nibble, a two step,
itty bitty piece of me four beneath the sheets,
sanguinary abattoir hymn of skulls teeth whistling,
an unbridled rapturous solo refrains ultima -
ceased to breathe; nevermore.

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