The Profanity of a Serpent’s Kiss

Parables are set among the graphite echoing justly with thee ages, yet becoming brittle with time,
This waltz that we endure contaminates our souls and our forlorn dying spirits… the lost of love, the seed hatred,
All to marry the victims in a wedlock tailored terrifying, bearing twisted tidings,
Although, nothing has sat more bitter or more deviant than your goodbye…or as mind-numbing as your serpent kiss,

Profanity, therefore, is the word I would use to describe eternity, as well as divinity,
For such entities that dwell in said nature are but the reflections of you, thereby of you do we weep,
Do we suffer, thus holding onto merely, these broken memories and jaded moments forsaken by forever,
Never did we have a chance to sigh, or to dream, or to believe in that illuminating horizon, dawning an open creed…No,

Hence, look to thy lord as the firmament crumbles…as the seals recant thy enclosed, kept secrets and prophecies,
Allowing infinity to murmur in a blasphemous voice, a silver tongue hereby inevitable but mute,

We cherished thee, we gave unto thee, we worshipped thee…
And my dear did I ever so love you, for you were as god in a sense that you bathed in purity…
Personifying purist, pleading perfection, promising prim, properly purely paring polite,
The sight of glory no man could simply denounce, furthermore as I pronounce increment of my, own suffocating heart,
The revelation continues to exhale thy exhilarating exhaustion, calibrating a cobalt blue unto the sky,

It all intensifies sweeping between each nebula scorching the high heavens that fornicates with my dreams,
Intertwining itself with galaxies which speaks dearly of you, as the all tends to elevate thoughts pertaining to Babylon,
A fable thus, anon, shaded within fragmented pieces regarding what proceeds to be as Assyrian gold,
It has all been foretold… the story express my affection which bears the burden to bloom as the world teeters,
Each and again it plays, hollowing in zealous at a gilded nimbus, while harlots and helots are there procreating in sin,

Sumerian wisdom lost by the Nile…there a riddle given unto a cherub eastward from Eden,
A garden that is but a flower that withers in time’s grimly, gripping ticking tones,

Father I say, let us dance as long as the sun burns… Let us sing during each full and new moon for they do not last,
Let me love her, as in this love we become eternal, and I like you revel in such notions… finding sovereignty throughout,
Thy kingdom shall come…yes, thy will to be done… It shall…all in thy name as our names are to whisper away together,
My beloved, I say unto you, we art to sway in thee other’s arms outside of God’s hands,
The world will be torn apart, yet we will drift beyond…the gates of heaven and hell will open and will be as doves,

Everlasting as ever… and ever… and ever it seems… what could have been, what still maybe…

-Renee Verona


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