Attack Of The Easter Bunny

                                Alone beneath an April moon...
                  Killing time and feelings still warmed from easier days...
                  Chasing the scent of an incarnate dream & thinking of a
                                woman for whom souls would be sold...
                                Gods denounced.. Saints crucified..
                                    A vision beyond sublime...
                              A mirage of paradise from Hell..
                              My love an effigy carved from flesh..
                              A white dove crawling through dirt... 
                    The dying bull that takes the matadors last bretah first... 
                            Some tears may fall for the sake of sentiment
                          but none shall be offered as a tribute to pain... 
                              How very often within the nocturnal embrace
                            we become helpless not to follow our hearts..
                            Even when the pieces are bleeding in our hands..