The meadow of my mind is quenched
and flowers evilness that blossoms forth.
When liquid shadows touch my lips,
the talon crested goblet springs to life.
You have allowed the darkness to decant
and fill the open vessel of your soul.
I smell the essence of eternal lust
fermented with the bile of deceit.
Presuming you are holier than thou
and thinking you’re the germinant of hope,
was the downfall of your manliness
and now I hold your children in my cup.
Three angels came
to save your sovereign place,
but I refused surrender to your loins.
I now control the silver cup of life
and Adam must submit to motherhood.
Silver trophy winner
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with much love & light~ Desire~*~
