Deceitful Heart

What of beauty in an ugly heart?

Defined by action, thought, and words.

Words, words, words!

Defiling purity with utterly base piety.

The holy church of language should burn,

Consumed in flame with the remainder of love.

Love, what of love?

Love slowly slices it's way into the skin,

Corroding the silently satisfying barriers,

Where previously none could enter.

Oh you sweet suffering soul!

I drank you in and you poisoned my blood,

The infection which consumes me will dry my skin and brittle my bones.

I will crumble to dust on a moonlit night,

Swept far away by Winter's last sigh,

Leaving a trail of amorous incandescence in my wake.

The conflict of my deceitful heart.

Author's Note

Originally Written 01-31-15.