COCAINE HEART ━━ poetry

a shakespearean tragedy

he has never seen true beauty
until this rose

and like the Little Prince,
he cherished this beauteous flower so delicately
that when he grasped onto her like a weed
his fingers bled of soiled blood
which cascaded in a dozen different shades
until it pooled at the pit of his abominably blitzed heart

and like Romeo,
he only swore by the inconstant moon
that inconstantly changed in her circled orb

she was his holy shrine and cult leader,
they were two blushing pilgrims,
and he devoted his prayers to the rose
as if she were a saint or goddess

their kisses plagued sins through lips

brawling love,
loving hate

love is so sinister!

and may both their graves
be their wedding bed

which their bud of love flourished at summer's ripening breath
but their sweet leaves were bit by an envious worm

she was heaven to touch
so he thanked god he was alive
       but no!         she was like hell's flames to touch
he wasn't prudent of the rose's lethal thorns

she made others crows
whilst thrashing her swan feathered wings
blessed with beauty and grace
but filled with poison

          and him
not a man of wax or marble
but merely a fatal, withering weed

now he's a putrescent poet
that writes sorrowful soliloquys
that she will never read