Death

Making Death

Amble into the unlit room
Fears deep within roost for company
Myriad thoughts of love hustle to leave
A mind empty, eyes dead, nothing to grieve

The fluorescent crackle
As light snaps on
The faint, life aroma of ejaculated sex
Nauseates as a death stink

The woman pallid
As devil looks on
The sheet dull, spread eagled she lies on
Stare in the corpse upon

Cadaver on cadaver
No love, no emotion, only a motion
A physical plunge
Of psyche scarred, an orgasmic sate

No affection in this mating
Every moan devoid of lust
Soul pained dying
Within every movement as the heart prises

In the incandescent dark chamber
is death revisited ever again
For here, no love-making, they are just making death
over and over again