Wilderness of Wormwood
Poetic Perversions plumb the depths of this placid psyche, fading into the sultry shadows of this purple night, & with a ravens claw pierced through your hollow breast the distance of memory alas takes flight! & tt's death in the afternoon as this silver spoon sings a sirens song while elements collide, slowly they flow into the green chalice of Venus, As golden gardens grow in the cradling womb of the empress, She's a liquid muse stirring a scorching essence of flame in the devils belly! & this pen glides gracefully in the ink that is your inspiration, As these dancing fireflies flutter behind shades of azure, & a thick cloak of incense shrouds the temple... As weary travelers wander in a wilderness of wormwood galloping on the backs of green horses, oh how the perfume of your potency perverts the poets perceptions! For a century forgotten, Lost as the Eleusinian elixir, but now once more the cup runneth over! “Sante!!!” to the potion of the Parisians!