Love often spoken of
Vanishes in the pitch of the night;
Hiding beneath the walls –
in the abyss of death.
The dancing fire of hate
quenches you to ashes and washes you
in the bowels of the unknowns –
bringing despair upon my hopeless soul.
In my shattered sanctuary
You leave my spirit to ruins and pieces
Drowning in a sea of tears –
Grasping for air.
Your existence detriment me
Leaving no art in me;
Behind your pretense of delight,
You are death.