Victims Of The Flesh

Succumb to the beauty,
These dogs on the prowl,
Curses cast unto truly,
Their learned to forget to howl.

One look and your stone,
One bite is all for the turn,
Your worn before wearing it home,
Your warm burning in yearn.

Fickle is love that came in a moments feeling,
Sultry seductresses wear their lies as a mask,
Forewarned against goddesses tempting touch of healing,
Victimized through crystal eyes carrying out a formidable task.

Choose to pickup the pieces or go on broken and bent,
Wear the scar as a reason reminded to never do it again.