Love Is
platonic allegiance and virtual dementia
crowd this room as life is washed away
the agony is sweeter than coagulate decay
burning sound and blinding noise
fight the need to scream
or give in and live the dream
bloody towers, faltered steps
to act out a purposed overthrow
capacity for agony is quick to come and go
while branding iron alone brings tears
and moans of pure despair
sit cold and silent on his lips
a deadly, dreadful prayer
in a room of rending, unending night
on a bed of rope and steel
amidst feverish dreams, cacophonies
there is pain still left to feel
the watchful, apathetic eyes
stay vigilant from the start
for agonies with no reprieve
to a barely beating heart
silence not so momentary
when all is said and done
depleted strength to fight the bullet
hiding in his gun
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