I have fared well with love
Being in her good books
Until you came
With your powdered face
And polished nails
Yet with a vixen of heart
Blends of a biting egocentrism
And the odd sprinkling
Of blunt sarcasm
You are a perfect image of hell
Hades mistress you are
What wind did blow ye
To sour this hallowed life?
Lust sure it is
Now I am lost
Whence all evils did surface
How can such evil
Be clad with beauty?
Your sugarlaced lips do the most
And your nectared tongue
Only but a bait to the unfortunate
Woe is he allured to this beauty.
Within these fine contours
Lay waste a mass of mess
Catalyzed by a world
Where hips do the reasoning.
From this cesspool
I cry unto you
Salvage whatever is left
Of my putrid soul.
This love or is it lust,
Not healthy.
And this union,
Not safe for work.
