Image credit: hfna

I was your concubine of perversity
Across your twisted mind the games we’d played
Were the rivulets where the stitches frayed
What did you say when just standing there
The lonely man upon the highest stair
All the butterflies nesting in your ragged hair?
‘There’s nothing here but of the lost, depraved’?
And so when dining at your table
Cutlery so sharp and the cloth so white
Laughter’s music playing jazz tunes in the night
I turned around and like a child took fright
To see the derelicts that you had saved

Polite society as a battleground
Deepest savagery in the words that tear and bite
Just a vagabond in your wicked sight
And those times you chose to take a stand
What were your words and your cruel commands
That laid waste to all my dreams and plans?
‘Be glorious my child, not soft and trite’
But the mask you wear for the dark parade
Shows your glory is but a broken shell
And these truths we know too harsh, too well
Your pleasures lead us both to your perfect hell
Lost as falling stars in winter’s night

(c) Helen Valentina 2015, All Rights Reserved