Doll

A lover's caress, sinfully soft, filled with the beautiful poison of a liar's tongue.
Caught in lust and tangled in love, can a moon be a sun or a hangman's noose won?
Penetration, flooded with blood and tears, fibers knit together, creation.

A severed touch, harsh and uncaring, stained fingers caress pure skin. Nude.
Captured and twisted in this wicked starlight, the intensity of that cut burns the soul.
Pulse meets pulse, a year of days eclipsing a face. We belong to nothing.

A broken doll lies in a dead girl's arms. Innocence forever changed, lost.
Catalyzed by the hands of time, bleeding forgotten rhymes. Does death have a taste?
Peace, like a decayed rose, sobers the moment. Then again, peace never truly lived.

A minute, a second. Time continues even as everything disappears.
Castaway of Heaven, lover of Hell. Blinded can you see? Dying can you live?
Purged and slipping, crimson satin bathes a naked moon, ivory and blood.

A final thought, evidence of sours and sweets, of honey and acid. Broken.
Corrupted by its own flesh, jilted by its own breath. Haunted by betrayed lovers.
Past and present, forever united, ever divided. Isn't that just a line in a song?