Love Poem: To the Gates of Chill

To the Gates of Chill

Even to the realm of silence
I follow.
To primordial chaos
The specious zany follows.

Seemingly myopic,
my sepulchral glare.
Beware! Of conning eyes
you raider of fulfilled rapture.

I hound the hooded hound
for my demi-soul.
Adonis for Aphrophone
walks plutonian deeps.

Though, I come,
futility behind
scourges with strikes 
of dejection.

Yet, on void grounds
I push to limbo
being met by wan faces,
wry creatures.

I fear that perchance
the blazing pecan
is ripe for reaping 

Will you succumb?