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Poem

As night meandered, 
a deceitful descent, 
a sparrow's cry did beckon,
the dark perils, of yet 
another mysterious presidio,
of intrigue and macabre phantasm.
There,
amongst the massacring 
twilight, an omen of morbid
sensation and forbidden temptations.
The squalls of envy and hate, 
malice and its leviathan 
of undertow.
The burdens of 
crucifixios and despair's
hearkening victory through
resurrection, Lucifer
there,
the inferno of seraphic spiral.
As oceans of blood, at 
midnight billowed, like
a blossoming of melancholic
roses, 
there, 
amidst this unfathomable abyss,
a wary passion lived.
There,
a lost soul,
explored.
The vessel in search. . .
of desire, fulfillment,
an embrace into
nothingness.
Truth. . . 
truth left,
feeling empty.  
Enthralled
within a scarlet setting,
nostalgic
waves pulsed,
collapsed,
tears then.
There was no emotion,
there,
remorse crept
along a distant shore.
Tears again. . .
a withering sun,
phantasmagoria's rhetoric,
and nothing more.
Jaded silhouettes,
now,
within and without,
this desolate setting,
there,
lost, 
meandering,
time. . .
stops.  Death,
stirs an ocean,
swells erupt.
The masquerades
of madness, 
left to ponder.
Death approached me again,
was I already dead?
As I lay, 
there, 
unconscious. . .
awakening then,
a renewal of 
my fascination,
with Death.

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