Seven portals to hell resurrected
on tips of sacrificial pins
past the point of repair, I pleaded to nobody
this miracle of life is full of pot-holes,
shameless interferences,
inadequate players.
We've exhausted this devil's highway
wandered far into Desolation,
fallen angels are buried alive here,
I hear bones rattle in southern winds
they whisper madly in the crags,
plot bloody revenge.
When someone says they dont love you,
it should kill you instantly
apart from blessed virgins,
no one's willing to sleep in mangers, anymore.
Harvest moon shines a yellow fear
at her feet seduction wanes
sways of baby-I-love-you's,
could we believe in ourselves enough to try?
Without answers spoken,
I disregarded the scrape
the keys made, clanging
against a door I refused to open,
no matter how heavy the knock.
...
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with love & light~ Desire~*~
