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My armís a rabid field of pain;
My face a punching bag for abuse.
Blood falls clearly towards the drain
Iridescent in its violent hues.
I collapse against the marble wall
Of your pride, and of your rage.
I pray that from grace I may not fall;
Yet I lie fluttering in this golden cage.
Cringing skin, a map of violet mazes
Finding solace in this branded creature.
And I watch, mute, as your hand raises
To unfurl scarlet upon my every feature.
I sense you, with throbbing head and eyes,
Paint me like an artist who his genius has lost.
Replaced are the etchings of promises, with lies;
For a bruised portrait that has dearly cost.
And I think myself away, to a far away sea,
Where my wounds are healed by a benevolent sun.
And cobalt waters patiently wait upon me,
Rusting up your malicious gun.
You stare into me, green into black.
Mangling my wrists like a serpent strong.
Your broken nails scratch my volatile back,
And whisper that what I did was wrong.
Upon my eyelids I sense your sharpened knife -
Silver, a shrapnel of full moon ray.
I know it is now yours or my life.
So I decide to wash you away.
In a heinous kiss of red and fire,
I seduce you, blind your vapid aim.
As you melt, I pull the blade higher,
And extinguish your canvas, your artful gameÖ
Servitas a Periculum
Servatis a Maleficum