:::come hover near:::

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Three beeswax candles burn to brighten Hallow’s Eve.
Pocked faces sneer ‘neath greasepaint; they are dying to deceive!
The wind is whimpering, now wailing, down long lanes
and leaves of caramel and carmine flit at window panes.
May souls who have departed from this spinning sphere,
come hover near the hearths of humans, whom they once held dear.

:::soothing spies:::

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Sweet scenes of angels lull sick hearts to sleep.
They glide in sky blue, flying over eyes
which flutter, steeped in bourbon’s fevered keep.
White wings of comfort…nature’s soothing spies.

Four years gone
cornered on all sides
blood head
just what we denied

What meaningless and mournful nights have passed.
How glad we would be if compassion came
to call on him, whom life has left to die.
Sweet scenes of angels lull sick hearts to sleep.

metamorphosis

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Slipping off the costume once again,
you become a sweet creature of dreams.

The common body, buried beneath
a flimsy gauze of naught, is shared with
no one save the Devil.

Slipping off the costume once again,
you become a hellion of horrors.

What is revealed?
The darkest parts that have no shame.
What is concealed?
The golden parts that have no aim.