Savage Salvation, Darling Damnation

Golden sun adorned in rapture 
with talons gouging blood
is forced once more to fume and fall.
Buried beneath the ashen hills 
she must dwell in sweet-solace’s
cloying embrace. 

What heart-of-night 
does not relish her demise
the release of fiend-desire
the preacher bearing crimson chains…
who does so twists his words! 

Honeysuckle nails carve 
-delicate lace- 
on her tepid milky skin…
-skeletal- 
cinnamon trails. 
hot on branded flesh- 
as tongues run rampant
in a twilight shaken hour.

Those who taste 
the decay of his lips-
as he lingers to brush aside
a wisp of sordid hair-
from hardly innocent eyes

perish beneath a pile of corpses...

Dignified maybe not,
but in reverence...
pardoned by fleeting breath-
rationalized to deceive the unwilling...
So willingly provoked-

to join those of winged-night
as they flit through trellised arbor. 

A macabre dance 
of living shadow

Thriving on mute pulses-
Hearts beat so low, out of tune

All the more pleasing
For shadow is scarce
In this barren waste-

Revel as the orchid is suffused 
with nightshade’s fragrant toxin, 
fantasies chosen for deadly allure
corrupting conspiracy
to delight of paramour. 


Weaving ever weaving
lost shadows capering-
torment vanquished freely...
In their lingering calamity.

Still lurking
in chambered travesty…
darkness so becomes you,
in fragility; absurdity!
Heresy in pleasured mutterings
-hidden beneath the fallen dusk-

The night will reign in terror-
Bonded in sanguine sheets 

Inflicting fear into her fantasy…
Wreaking infection with his virulent hands…

smeared red with bloom-
-of sacrifice-
bewitching the moon
to rein eternal over this land
of ethereal-midnight

their harmonic screeches echoes…
infinite in their lusting.

Stoked to quiver side by side
’till spawned from black contentment,
glutted with sacred scarlet…
shattered-glass resentment.

resounds 

Climatic piercing…
Whimpered plea…
The void trembles and the dark
screams, crimson sparks light the scene
the world explodes in fire. 

Transformation in his caress
still strives to seek its vengeance-
floating in the air with eyes ablaze
fury grips her spindly wrists.

Lips-
peel back in a snarl; she is ready
to join in the hunt.
Ferociously in agony
Her splendor feels so lethal-

In the bat of an eye
Her heart’s been laid rest-
With the curse of his blood
She has been blessed


co-written with, whispered_chaos

Reviews

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. whoa ! ... the title ... the word play ... the alliteration ... the flow ... the progression of thought ... the rendition ... the tone ... all are awe-inspiring ... i wonder if you guys teach poetry ... sure seems like it to me ...