Lust
Dusk, burning in black flames.
Icy white, tinged with blue, an empty looking white.
Cherishing the sight of thorns and needles.
Barbwire hidden in crops.
Ash and spark.
Blue roses bloom under the crescent moon.
Icicles casting shadows that stretch for miles,
such nonsense.
Losing to such riffraff.
Tender muscles, warm to the touch.
Numb eyes crying like a raging river.
Can you feel inspiration coursing through your veins?
Spoken into existence through spotlights,
holding hands in a field of rats.
Blood dripping from softly parted lips.
Cut through the flames sword of Ares.
Guide me into the grave, for I am your instrument.
Till death do us part.
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