I stare into my destructive past, I rehash a history of tasting the dust but never the savor of answered prayers.
My yet unborn dreams simmer in the fertile soil just beneath the blackened rose, but offer little joy.
Love passes thru barren, strident veins forever will betray my withering heart. The infection of denial feasting upon the flesh of my sanity.
The pyre of hope ignigites, passion is turned to smoke above the trees. Desire, blackened with soot takes wing and her black fragments sore to their untimely end.
The frigidness of death will come for us all. Some she takes quickly without a ripple.
Yet for those whom she favors, her touch Is less tender, the end comes with torment and scintillation.
-Johnny V.
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