Hark! A chalice falls,
Into the crystal hands of a maiden,
As time overflows,
Like venom from sultry wine,
Another drop in the stagnant pool of victory.
Coils of malice,
The sharp bite of lucid steel,
Crimson traces,
As love slices patterns,
Into the fragile dust of emotion.
Wishes for sanctity,
For honesty and chastity,
But all that answers is,
A spiralling feather,
With laughter in it's barbs.
Sin not for wanting,
Razor sharp for lust and hate,
Words that stab and tongues that sting,
For he speaks lashes,
And is every word a tear.
