Red Light Secrets

The brightness of a world nomad;
as an ember in soul gem of a time;
open only to passage of certain facts stormy
dragged by the current,
cut up stairs by the sea,
dens of lust in some dark edge,
populated by statues of kings,
almost unrecognizable from torches reverberating.

Lights on the ivy covered walls,
Oh heart,  heart proud!
infiltrating fake ghosts at your door.

Now that you know so well;
otherwise your thirst without memory,
melancholic soul creature of game play so far,
cited in the bedrooms with ecstasy and terror,
slow language indomitable passion for the hell,
and venom of the adventure with their crimes
invoked again once the big blow
in these chambers of stone tied to paying lover;
and both involved in the fabric of hours lost
died at sea;
ready to shed stakes in snapshots ,
as on beds of a mysterious metal shines in the darkness,
sails under chandeliers
with chorus of birds turning lewd raged in the rooms;
sealed by iron clad nights.

Dens such as solemn covered carnivorous flower;
with thorns rotting in shades of hair affluent;
sway pompously carved up from the portal,
dome
as the ship anchored on the brink;
slowly shaking their mirrors to numb the woman;
among executioners incinerating the heart
at night,
and cross the hallway where rain and frustration,
wrinkles on face by the stink of rotten flowers;
accumulated in endless corridors
with murmur of stifled sighs
woven into the very sad nacre,
nameless grass where guests sink,
repeat once again among the shadows
the legend of making love that never stops.