A life without love, windows are shone tinted
behind darkened lashes, covered curtains
to the Soul's sanctuary
which huddles in a corner’s crease, vacant
under duress from feathers stripped
off back where blue veins wallow
in shallow pools dried of liquid solution, leftover
after salted diamonds for another to acquire;
splintered pieces picked out of muddied bed
where a gratuitous Garden of Eden
once flourished, honey flavored sustenance
yet the winter’s climate controlled Kismet
to an extent. (Kept the bees away)
Sacred foundation brittle as breath
siphoned to strike at heart, weakest link
and elixir drained to drink by mouth
of Demon. (with Mortal sins massaged into flesh)
Mind tempted, stirred to stray, think self
voiceless, spiritless also worthless with integrity
washed downstream within depths of abyss
into Death Valley where other victims congregate;
have their skeletal remains scattered,
used as manure in Hades.
Honorable mention
Adding your comment:
my pleasure as always to read 
and much love
