The way your eyes drown in
The molten inferno of your soul
Makes me wonder whether
You see the intricate
Fissures in the porcelain
Walls of your
Mind. Cobweb chords
Tautening against the austerely
Clear windows of your
Corneas, like barbed wires clawing at
Fragile glass bubbles
From within. Yet
Your eyes, they still
Glisten with what one might expect
Of God and,
Like any other delicacy of life,
The light passes, unnoticed.

Your soul opens invitingly
To the whispered caress of
A ghostly goddess who visits
Every now and then.
With such gentle cruelty, she
Laughs and tightens her
Talons around your heart
With a merciless grip that
Builds upon itself,
Like the low resounding purr of thunder,
To a mounting crescendo
And with the roar of a
Thousand furious spirits, her claws streak through
Your fervent being, leaving it
Shaking
Bleeding

She has already gone
With a dissonant chorus
That echoes in the
Porcelain chambers of your mind
Like the forlorn call of a lost lover
What rights have we
To rob you of
A heart that had
Been claimed long ago?