Cupidic lips,breathe into my mouth
The beautiful illusion,the perfect lie;
Bite into the ripened moment’s flesh
To savour near-death’s quintessence.
I don’t know!-my life’s defiant cry
And whimper-to hell with everything!
You cannot kill the maggot in the core,
The parasites breeding under the skin.
Melodrama was always my forte,
Histrion in buskins for the eager mob,
Playing farces with solemn conviction,
Taking a bow to the killer in the dark.
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