A Sonnet of Love.
Wolves snarl at a glimpse of your Harlot stare,
Frothing over your luscious red lips, Steak,
Whining to your tempting whisper with care,
Dooming mortals to a fate of heartache.
I love! Unsew me now, unfold my skin,
Reveal my purity, deprive me it!
Engrave my soul with your seducing sin,
Entwining me tightly where cries emit.
Pure wails of love lost, and happiness shunned,
Tortured souls looking for an open heart,
That place where promises are not undone,
That contract, ‘Love always comes in two parts’.
So tell me Slut, how many hearts must bend?
Before your final, flailing, faceless end?
