Quickillove

Scrambling intellect in the abyss of ignorance
staring high the floating ground
confused feet on a gutter dance
the path broke and became hell-bound

the bloody mask of the stranger
wet on the rain-soaked soil
eyes red in bemused anger
something sweet is suddenly spoiled

i love you're green eyed tear
the way you move in that sinful gown
smiling in that perpetual fear
your facial happiness is but your inner frown

goodbye now dear, in your box
i left you swimming in your blood
beauty speaks of your painted ducks
be back on November be back