Passion in Night's Shadows

Passion in Night's Shadows
----By Anish O Cornel-----

The vestment of honey
'pon the petals of two star-crossed
lovers,
Is as the balm of soleful berries
Sealed in combs of pleasure's wit
slavering per time and season,
To redeem the thirst of passion
...
And we were two,
Riding 'pon the pride of Barbados
As beknight'd 'pon the wings of
spring,
Iced in ice, we remained clung to
each
Heart knitt'd to heart,
As gummed cells augmented in
Cherub's pod,
Fondling and molly-cuddling with
the kisses of the primrose,
And with the thrilling vignette of
Mirth,
To chill our spine as well, the frilling sheets,
Of our energy

I am the knight
She, the damsel to whom,
The reed of my pink soul be tacked.
We both lay 'pon the feathers of the cloud,
As graced by divine Uriel
And before Seraphim's court doth
make our creed to each,

But then, winter brought her the
Night,
As my creed and reed be rid by Evil's con,
For I was long gone with the North-Easter,
With the cords of her heart held,
reasoning mine remained still
'mooched to her love's crust,

But Alas!
She, her vows, doth ruin,
'Pon the tablets of damnable lust
with him.
An hecatomb of flesh ignited, as her satyr calls,
To the smokes of sweet sweats,
Oozing from the fragrant embers of her spiral hide

Gone and stolen that I bethought
mine,
And now it's but shadows and
flames,
To think love twain in holds of
innocence,
For our walls are bleak, diaphanous,
For some skulking strangers (allies
and adversaries),
To gallop thro'
And this be the vice of they that,
Watch when we go blind,
At the deepest shadows of passion's Night.