Soft Rose Decay, Sweet Lilac Morbidity

Sculpted hammer of divinity comes down, and My skull is cracked and leaking Adorned by a veil of mourning glories in full bloom Laced, tethered stems joining at the base Soft gentle petals hugging Clinging to my foul, wretched mind Fragrant, bleak decay is periwinkle and silent Unlike me Who's hard to quiet down With sweet bells in my ears And a microphone at my lips Sweetness is you at my disposal, now isn't it? My heaven's moon is not unnoticeably distant, dry Smugly mirroring today's options and casualties of mind The mindfully loathed barriers of the doubtful dreamer I'm not unlike any other common beggar Or better yet deem me a Paris guttered snail Because I can sing, spend, scream and age in terms of Obscure, glamorous delicacies Or simply deceive with confidence about Blind faith in imminent recognition But I'm native to a South's unrefined peasantry You persist in blowing my head up, confirming my every doubt I chant pleadingly in my mind and cheer for all these Pastel, blessed tombstones of pained, unresolved victories against self These times I've defeated beasts occupying and feeding upon my inner most parts So then i'd heal by talking about Satin flesh and jeweled eyes, marble bones Consuming a dainty, kinder idea of life's harsh entirety Don't take my honey coated candy when yours turns sour Don't rake the roses from my garden bower Listen, I'm not what I appear when I'm inherently ignited Watching you silently piece out your orange hot Captive circus of inferno lust in my wake I'm possessing your heart And hating you for never knowing The death of me and my heart all those trying times Well at least these howling mutts of fettered glory And these rose bush injuries Can share with me their loud contradictive rivers of red wine and yesterday's bindings And give me the right to lament for yesterday's innocence And to preach my most detrimental horrors with the Grace of a sleek, mute dove And the style of any other artist born blue Sweet lilacs entice me, and The glimmer of your last night's star lights, all else brisk and black Peaches, plums, blessed forever White lace, faded noir What will be my final moon? What will be my final star?