Porcelaine dolls without eyes,
Porcelaine masks without a smile.
Blood trickles down a painted cheek,
Copper tears for her to weep.
Swirling skirts and gowns of silk,
Lust and love, addictions that kill.
A darkened room, a canopy bed,
Sheets of velvet now stained red.
A beautiful sin, whispered in the dark,
A beautiful lie to blacken the heart.
Ecstasy on fire,
Driven and damned by mingled desires.
YOU ARE READING
X_Masqued.Macabre_X
PoesíaMurder? Lust? Virginity? Vampires? The answer is both yes and no; let your imagination decide what kind of picture I painted...
