Indifferent Eye

             From the refuge of the deep brush she watches my fall from grace, knowing she, the single cause. I tread to the edge of the precipice, look to the heavens shouting my votive oblige toward her naked God. Holding still to the predict of our flimsy romance, and her promiscuous chaos. My eye, blind and bitter refuses to accept the expiring  ruin of her heart.

                Her fickle bosom perplexed by my hapless fate yet remains  unaltered by my despairing battle against her secret fire of unhallowed promises. I look down and know that this exit would feel like the stale stench of unwanted dreams. One small step, she gasps, as if to beg me restraint. But her need for delight outweighs her false sympathy.

               So with an indifferent eye she looks for me to prove to her my devotion. I fear that I will never atone until I resign my final dispose. Her victims crave that my wakeful nature will sink beneath  my devouring grave. So with my briny lips in full bliss I curse her Iron-foiled martyrs and with one inalterable measure bid my muse adieu.

-Johnny V.