Laura's Poetry Chronicles - Part 3

The Goetia Prince And The Bleeding Rose

I may be a handsome regal bird,
But tonight, shaming was widely heard
I could pray that my heart will not sink
I then heave, needing some space to think
My impish knight is more than a plaything
Perhaps for the next date, shall I sing?
I could give him another sensual call,
But I suddenly doubt he will answer at all

The grimoire opens a portal to the sky
I dully drift upwards as I softly sigh
Alone and lost within the canvas of night,
I gaze blankly in the silver moon's light
Although I could make mere mortals retreat,
Maybe I should have refused to cheat
I know I am not fond of household drama,
But they could say I swallowed a dose of karma

Not only do I wish my imp drove me wild,
I still hope for what is best for my child
The tips of my wings conceal two of my eyes
The other two gloss as if creation went to die
Keeping the beast sealed, I sense it whine
Is the honour of a prince no longer mine?
The grimoire opens once again beside me
I then hold out my open hands and see...

A single red rose begins to bleed
I am sure that this message would not mislead...
Each drop is darkened across each petal's hue...
Mrs. Cooper, was this really you?
Back when you were my daughter's age?
Consumed in familiar fear and rage?
The state of the poor rose is wounded and weepy
That bleak time of your life was...creepy

Here I am again, away from the moon
Dear Lisa, you will be free soon
Even though you survived in the past,
Your chance to survive the present could be your last
But I know you can make it with your might
It will not long until you must fight
Please continue to look your husband's way
Closer to your soul, you will be okay