The Queen of Passion
Creamy satin merges from her neck
Daunting eyes
Though glass window views
Here in her tall castle of desire
While she waits
Crystal, and china,
He was but another woman’s fire
The countless dreams
Lay on beds of screams
And in the longest of hours, he did return ,depleted
Of the lust and passion she longed for
And she waits
But her weakness for the gems she polished
Give no meaning to the abolished
Appetite she craved
And she waits
And he wrapped her in red roses of plenty
And the smiles and promises he couldn’t keep
He was weak
And she waits
No more, with a black velvet cloak over her shoulder
She rode into the night
With fire at her breast
And the smoke that did smolder, from her hair that rustled in the wind
Down to the door of another
Eyes met, locked in a heat
Bearing down below her feet
Came a bewildered spouse
Tore the neck of her blouse
With a violet end
There in the bend, the blood did flow like a river
Where he stood there with a shiver
Red running on his fingers
Numb and astounded
She lay there, in color of red roses
As she poses, died
|