Oath to the Sun-Setter pt. 1

My love like thorns,
The petals your dress,
Dripping milk, soured revenge.

Nothing is right and my skull was cracked,
Stretched upon the heart at last,
Sea of destruction and a moment of peace,
Nothing interlaced with the sounds of deceased.

Everything is perfect so the bell might ring,
Tears will fall as death sings,
The melody full of solitude,
Everything based on her taste so bittersweet.

My love like thorns,
The petals your dress,
Dripping milk, soured revenge.

Whispers gliding through existence creating failure,
Tell me your secrets give me your hand,
The vixens seduced sedated locked into submission,
Whispers neatly prepared at her bedside.

Thunder sounds out as the screams become louder,
Masked by the shadows of a growing eclipse,
Distant cries heard as the clouds gather,
Thunder breaks the sky into pieces of crimson roses.

My love like thorns,
The petals your dress,
Dripping milk, soured revenge.

Ian Robert Potapoff