Beauty and the Beast

Here rests the realm of the thorn-tongued truth ~ a mortal mirage of doomed pentacles, where forks and kettles speak the language of witchery, the dialects of the diabolical, listening as feral desires fill the aquatic hues beyond eclipsed chambers, chained with lunatic gold ~ where the beast impregnates the beauty, and awaits the birth of a tragedy, born from karmic fangs carving cruelty in shades of sin. Once upon a crestfallen fortnight, beneath a sky adorned with evil emeralds and remorseless rubies, a man seeking a gateway that imprisons his concubine finds a field of splinters, promising a never-ending curse, leading the beauty through hallways to where the beast sits on his unholy throne, reciting megalomaniac mantras, rewriting musical madness with nails and thistles on the walls of diamond-dusted deceit. He is finally served the bitter fruits of his own seasonings ~ on plates and chalices brimming with rust, concealing the carnal cravings weighing heavier than the hypocrisy he preaches to the oblivious ones, hypnotized by immoral myths… O thin-skinned spectators, this is no fairytale for the weak. This is the hellish gospel, inked in the blood of pagans rehearsing for the rising of the satanic sun. This is the story of a rose that smells like warriors dressed in vanilla from the springs of Valhalla ~ but fooled are the sympathizers, wishing she’d found a prince charming, and not a monster masked as a victim, weeping woes like a wounded lion. If only they knew he was a grotesque shadow of Lucifer, luring the fragile to find their home in the fangs of fiendish fragrances… Beauty deceived the Beast ~ with sagas laced in hemlock, and sighs that mirrored stars, with well-deserved vengeance and storms brewing beneath cloaked colors of ill-omened oaths and ancestral angst. She wore no tiara embellished with empathy; she kissed his darkness, to become unbreakable damnation ~ a voodoo queen, weaving blasphemy into the eyes of the beast, struck by trickery. She left him drenched in spells of sinister sparks, no longer a beast ~ but a caged raven, witnessing the fall of his empire and the dawning of bones and skeletons mimicking the mind of his musing, where she rules, as the eternal imposter, nurturing the sphere of all with anything but kindness. For she is the reflection of his vicious visions; she is the mother of venomous serpents, the cloned wenches, the voice of Lilith’s offspring, forever painting a false narrative~ one that seems like poisoned paradise. Be wary of the banquet you feast upon ~ you'll taste the venom you once poured. For Karma is boundless, and beauty is blind ~ to the sins you preach in mindless melodies...