Your lies pour out
Acrid, from poison lips
Contrasted by your porcelain beauty
Chaste in every way except by word of mouth
Pain is your foundation
Bridging one dreamscape to the next
Twisted visions creeping behind crimson overlays
With hues too dreary for human comprehension
Yet you thrive on blasphemy
Humming whimsically as bodies pull themselves from graves
Ignited by the fire of the moonlight
A caste unlike any other and paled in comparison
Pupils dilated in ecstasy
Arranging memories like photographs
And playing them in silent film
My life for yours…