This Vagrant Lust
Hell's music taunts his hooded lie
Condemns his fingers fretful glee
This vagrant lust that will not die
Nor feed his longing to be free
Cold tremor of long deadened strings
Hell's music taunts his hooded lie
Refutes the truths to which he clings
His voice an empty, faded sigh
Cold wind - a graveyard's soulless cry
Vibrations of death's haunting hum
Hell's music taunts his hooded lie
As through the flames bone fingers strum
Hell's flame his now forever curse
His music it would never die
Decisions based on fame and purse
Hell's music taunts his hooded lie
1/22/2020
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2020
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