Untitled Poem 2 – Transfixed by your stained soul…
Transfixed by your stained soul
An icy wind of cruelty
Sweeps from your heart
Over our freshly dug graves
Cracking the purity of the sky
An icy wind of cruelty
Sweeps from your heart
Over our freshly dug graves
Cracking the purity of the sky
Silenced by the Sphinx’s riddle
How good wombs borne such horror
Bewitching our golden pastures
Now long overgrown
I reflect upon your obscurity
Your opaque soul
Through the depths a crimson stream runs frozen
As the artic winds blow till they burst thy wind
We are caught between reality and mirage
In a most unholy dance
The fruit of passions you have long consumed
Your eyes forever glossed
