Ill Angel

Dark Poetry

 

Ill Angel

As lovesick as Medusa,

To dissemble the

Paramour of eve.

A rampant reflected

Beauty was she…

As the grin of jester did

Betroth,

To the passionate

Fraught of splendor…

Evermore flirtatious,

Lustful abidance of

Wanton sloth,

Mysterious magic

You weave.

As the white-lined

Complexion,

Of the placid eyed

Given to wrath,

Tears…

Evince superciliousness,

The pearls of justice

An envious flood,

Aging web of beauty

There abound ,

A hapless entity,

To scathe the desires

Of passion abreast

The gentle murmurs,

A perilous fervor

Of lethargy weal.

Ill angel,

Your poorest virtue,

The beauty of progeny,

The bitter rancorous cupid

To know thee,

 An excursion,

Our pagan divinity,

You steal.