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My Wrath Forlorn (Night’s Asylum)

June 14, 2012

They all stare
With scorn
And lack of care
My wrath forlorn

Until I seek night’s asylum
Club lights swirl
In anthem
I would drink her
With my eyes
Her look
My love surprise

And I don’t care about
daytime hate any more,
And how they stare at me
With predator’s eyes,

I have a blood red drink
and a spice cigarette,
talking to a black lace goddess with no regret,
with strobe-lit skin like divine wine I could
begin, their spite, my hate, to forget.

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From → Gothic poetry

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