Alabaster Porcelain on a Ghost

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.