What’s the Point

Bleed for the bloom
Pinpricks burn to consume
Velvet red signals to push
Pleasure in pain only for the rush
Self slaved towards this final end
Cycle spins with a message to send
Around the void dancing demons dreams
While the point prods the souls seams
Rest when no more will bring asunder
Escape from ones own infinite plunder
Poke and prod for past pleasured
Hoping for crimson gifts soon registered
The god bright red soaring through numbers
The contents nameless as life's burnt embers
One more needle dull from love's labor
Filled to the brim with the devil's flavor

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem