My Poison Thorn

My gothic tears, my topaz hell, the blood of fear, a demon’s
Well. And scar to soul, a falling sky, the pulse of verse, the
Curse to fly. For bleeding heart, my poison thorn, a phrenic
Breath, a vulture scorned. And earth to flame, the grave of
Light, my fated tears, my scripted plight. And croon to stone,
The creek of blood, the pleat of scars, the need to drug. So
Clog the drain, and grog the heart, a shattered storm, the
Form of art.

My gothic tears, my topaz hell, the blood of fear, a demon’s
Well. And pain to God, my fractured prayer, my vibrant faith,
My faceless tare. For screeching glass, my poison thorn, a
Sphinxly flash, my gift to mourn. And lungs to wail, the
World to death, my kef-like song, my blood to breath. So clog
The drain, and grog the heart, a shattered storm, my form of art.