Chambers of Screams and Sighs

Primal passion's slasher

lurking in the cerebral catacombs,

closeted compulsions clones

stalk with carcinigen cravings.

Chained obsession's goblins

hiding their conscience suicide kits,,

waiting for opportune seconds

in illumined decay

to cut the bonds of moral nuptials.

Fiery stabs of their carnivore sickles

filet the shrouds of presumption,

until in the darkness

where trepidation thrives in shades of gray,

shooting stars of revelation

explode with a twinkle in epiphany's pinpricks.

For in the midnight of our secrets

where our dragons drool their vile spiritual acid

there flickers the candle of ethereal flame

never fully quenched, though oft does it smolder.

Dwelling within a circus tent of stewed reality

not swallowed whole by black behemoths

rising from their vile nests,

nor able to sleep in surrender within purity's cocoon,

heard is hell's whispers in sync

with heaven's hum,

adjusting volume of mind's stereo

until harmony of listening to both

doesn't end with insanity,

unwilling to stop appreciating the howling tease of vile song

or completely be capable of only enjoying a harp's chorus.