Losing to the World

Looking upon past days of Eden, where dainty hopes and dreams molded into spectacular fantasies, shrouding the myths of reality. Oh, how the days of innocent predictability sweetly dwindled into the nothingness of expectation, to form a bitter-sweet concoction of tempting mediocracy.

Recalling our last round, when violent thunders shook the Earth. Lost in your serpentine addiction. How foul is this love-crazed admiration that so idolizes your affectionate apparitions? And yet, the taste of pain lingers still, thick.

Twas the sharp cries in the still of night, that in stealth stole upon my each haggard breath. As a dove, so cruelly torn.

And as the dawn's dew of morning so dutifully blinded me did I witness the lies of society shatter behind its very shield of hypocrisy! A terrifying advent, I did not see, but the scarlet blood of a lamb gently streaming.