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route wend
when night bends
churlish pleasure
the dark sin treasure

come to be bruise balmed
and bedecked with calm
your scars your wounds
the flesh stiched tracer
your night shawled look

you had me at "Babe"
this soothing full drawl
and how you take me
out from the beautiful
this haunted ruin
calibrated with pains
and painted with

this tumultous

Editing stage: 


but I confess to a certain fascination with it. I would tell you why, but I don't have a clue. wesley

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Thank You Wesley for your fortright honesty!
When I'm writing its a blurry haze sometimes
I can feel out the sharp edges but trying
to transcribe it is a magical mystical occurence
at times....Thank you for commenting on this peice
Im honoured at this!! Mr E

author comment

I love it and would not change a thing, it's raw and vibrant, just perfect. Regards Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

about the wealth of that collision
all sparks and growls
satin eyes with diamond glints
firing the souls wealth
in flaming passage

that velvet perfume lush
hanging in the air
like the promise of snow
like the ache of rain
racing in breeze thick
tropic runs

sometimes there is not a
limit to descriptors
of cosmic tabulations
and tremors in the psyche core

the addiction of addictions
dripping into veins of promise
and that insatiable hunger
for the first fire that stabs
us in passion
till we taste the vibrant
life that courses through
our trembling bliss

(sweet obsession, forever haunting!!)

author comment
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