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Twisted Eights of Chaos

twisted eights of chaos
sprinkled on the soul
and faint bedroom whispers
lay upon the breath

of life or death

no fine gown to cover the maiden fair
gracefully displaying the temple of desire
burning red-hot-embers of lust
promising pleasures to have

she always must

with eyes of blue that no longer seem ocean deep
she's a hollow sinner-won-epiphany

as she reads jesus and angel keeping with her mind
and lives for the devil's darkest deeds
no glory or knowledge seeps from her pores

sleep, sleep
deep in slow silent breaths
forevermore

sunday's burdened from the twilight of her youth
lost dreams and promises tangled up
with a hundred brush-strokes
placed upon the flaxen hair
the tapestry of hope and make-believe
still shining there
woven in her soul so deep

because no one ever really cares

the eternal-tunnel of love
closed with the death of time
without reason or elongated rhyme
twin mounds of nourishment...
fruitless......useless

wasted extravaganza of hand molded clay
perfected by an imperfect world

breathe
noise of want
and need and forgotten sinful deeds
sleep,sleep
keeping on forevermore

lost and falling
on the slick surfaced bed of thorn's
the nectar of the feast bitter-ed
tainted with the clock of time

shameless...blameless

naked to oblivion
lost faces beckoning
hidden in satisfied shame

body of porcelain milk white
open to take the blame
naked thoughts reckoning
as she lays sprawled decorously
before entering
through eternity's final door

in suspended animation
she awaits in repose
offering of her jewels

and she slowly dies

with each penetration
she drowns in the juices of her lust
her needs are insatiable
but, all she knows is that if she breathes

she must

she welcomes her fate

sealed with
forgotten memories

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