PART II
A cruel, unmeticulous, wretch of a soul,
Had once made a mock of my heart,
His decadent fables engendered a toll,
And led to a sinister start.

Disguised as a man with a tenderness warm,
Ensnared was my credulous trust,
Yet kept underneath was a thunderous storm...
Of foolish, impractical lust.

​Approaching an intersectional gloom,
Our sympathy withered away,
For all that was left was devilish doom...
And undesirable stay.

A victim of silver and carnal entwined,
His inner was severed and bare,
A dangerous, desperate, desolate kind,
With purpose malicious and rare.

And bound by the evil that girdled his chest,
He'd ogle and scorn as I lay,
A quivering clod with a churning unrest...
Would lead my desire astray.

Meandering bristles enveloped his neck,
With whiskers of sable and grey,
His desicate mane, a miserable wreck...
His sophistry fables at play.

​A tempest of woeful gloom had emerged,
A glint in the eyes of a crow,
A splinter of lies from my heart he had purged...
... the stories that he'll never know.

Content with the torment that set on my heart,
He'd distorted the twines of my breast,
And woven the core that he'd shredded apart...
On a surrogate mystery's chest.