Beffudled

The first light of dawn breaks the snow-capped hills, but alas she makes ready her sleep and dreamland welcomes her familiar spirit.

Her night of punishment on men has come to a close, and her lover stripped bare of his shame is to her, now but an unremembered dream.

The memories of her embrace so linger upon his tongue, and his silence holds. For although his wounds will heal, it is his endless howls which cut thru the ears of time, and roughly float above its gentle head.

Still, she will rest upon white winged angels, and to peaceful slumber fly. For her sins are distant as a fresh glowing star, the thoughts of her night are but shadows.

Her brutality goes unchecked, because men blinded by her flavour and beauty are befuddled and queer. Their flesh newly spawned with blood, feel not the blade till it leaves its ballied host.


-Johnny V.

Barbed

I spied her haughty eyes just as the bright sun again overpowered the unwarmed night air. At that moment I was evermore her trident squire.

Her soft ruby scented hair falls in delicate ringlets upon her patterned shoulders, each sun speckled mark a touch of pure beauty.                          

The courage she must evince each morning would bring battle potent kings to their knees. Unlike those powerful crowns - draped heads of yore, she faced her foes alone.

It is not the loyalty of subjects she desires, nor the admiration of numbered strangers. Only the safety and plume of a young, innocent, novel queen, for her acquisition alone can see this to close.


-Johnny V.

Unsullied Hopes

Eternally drunk on the wine of cowardice, she watches and seeks out the wreched in her lover. As he waits for her permission to endure her punishment. Like a goddless oaf he lays his palpitating and unsullied hopes at her pale feet.

She, a self-folding flower hides her true quality from presumptuous mortals, and continues to bathe unseen, gently emerging robed in purple flakes of mitigated fury. His fear rages deep inside his darkened veins, but his need to posses her wins the draw and ends his delightful misery with one final melodious moan.

Then like a well known charmed god she takes flight on winged heels. Passing high above the unvalued remains of former shaded heroes. They spy her scented glory as she clears their doomed stadiums desguised as as smile lip'ed serpant. Forever ignorant of the fire loaded bones in her past.

Ransacked

                Her frigid salt stained gaze follows her razor touch, burning fear into my tender new found flesh.  Her cheap and tawdry silence deafens my ears, rendering all mute. My tears fall like the famed Persian arrows, yet her smile is broader than the cold quiet sea.

 

                I beg for the release but my pleas are lost in her stale and passionless embrace. Her arms reach me, trapping my overburdened heart. Escape for me is infeasible; for her delay is darker than Satan’s bed chamber, her discernment deep as the hallows of Hell.

 

She refuses to accept the misconduct she has brought so she continues her brutal journey across my bewildered endeavor. I know all well the endless torture that awaits my commodity but helpless am I to defy.

 

The path without her is painless, but my freedom from her command is damage riddled and more powerful than God’s wrath upon those who disavow his potency. I cling then to false hope and ransacked promises made with postiche but seductive tongues.

-Johnny V.

Butterfly

She beautifies her eyes upon my ogre filled darkness. Her fondness and joy are stronger than the gnarled demons who reside within. Like frightened rodents they flee from the light of her spirit. Never before has one so lovesome and gentle been at my

Like the Philosopher King she leads me from the dark shadows to the bright truth above. Till the day I spied her delicate love, trust was vacant inside of me. For I know that betrayal  is not present in her bosom.

Her love knows no limit, her loyalty knows no bound. All who know her are sweeter for her smile. Her grace renders hope to those seeking acceptance. Her walk is as the butterfly's dance above nature's golden garden.

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Friendship

Rest not your hope in false friends, for they are very accomplished at dragging the cheerful past their limits. So proud are they to don deceit upon their thorny brow. They smile spacious when the sun is bright, but be weary for when the foggy mist rolls empty will be your hearth.

They will cling to your side and cater their own needs but vanish like the moon in daylight when your pain is great. Dwelling within barred windows allowing no percept beyond their dilapidated fence posts. Their compassion for any outside their own spirit is weak as a foal.

So sip first from the well of friendship for its tocicant can be fearsome and cause great pain. Long will be your convalescence, but the scathe will heal and mark your heart to remind ye hold fast to those true of heart and flavour.

Frozen

Would that her tempestuous words deafen my ears, for her silence is more ruin and deadly than the rains that defined Noah's holy task.

As her knight I would face Satan if she did but ask. But without a dictate or quest from my beloved I become as a candle's flame against God's mighty breath.

Death is more welcome than her refusal to lend me her tender pronounce. For it is her command alone which may console my beating essence, or my right to walk on soil for one more evenfall.

Left to suffer in the cold night haze, each frozen drop deepening my icy grave. With pride I attempt to guard my ache from my royal seige, but well does he know my grief. Even the gestures of his joyful squire do mot retrieve my anguish.

Alone then in my chamber do I weep, ne'er aware if she will again cede my heart a sweet noble deed.

Yet tis not to be, for her needs are far deeper than this humble knight's grasp. Like many before I will end my service and cumulate to a faint memory.