// Okabe : idling alongside the soundless path his footsteps delayed
until the moment his heart could carry him no further
hunched beneath the skies grey and dull, the winds
churning prettily into a placid breeze, his eyes
could stray no further from the face he resentfully forsaken
for in the private sector of his wretched soul
the lunacy was cureless; the playback of her deaths ran forever

it was not her fault. it was not her fault, it was not her fault
the rain began to pour, coating the paths he tread;
the winds cacophonous, as though they were themselves the screams caged within his unquiet mind

// A moment too short : in this deathless dream that preserves my fancy
now and again the soundless tread of crystal heels retreat to the rooms of my beloved.
there lies her wraith, for it is my ingenuity that begets
her presence, a trigger for the fire that
incessantly burns for her beauty.
I do condemn my soul for what it intends
for my efforts in this lifetime aids only the
procurement of bliss
yet only her do I crave for
my insatiable thirst yearning for her return...
a gem so lustrous, I was confined in the darkest
chamber of her love
only too soon was my life bereft of her presence one funereal day.
she despoiled my priorities, my morality, my dignity,
for her, I immolated my sense of justice for her pleasure
and while this pleasure was cordial, I knew it would see to its demise
but I had not expect her abandonment so early!
I was void of inclinations to forgive and forget;
I needed the warmth once more
her kisses had always been too short
my desire to prolong our unity in bed never wavering
her touch was fair, light and her eyes danced darkly
and I, captivated, succumbed to her incentive.
my mind, conquered by the body, had been absent for so long,
and now, my present self a disgrace, my honor lost to debauchery.
but I was submissive, subdued in the gentlest and utmost enthralling ways.
I look now at her body laid on the cold floors,
tresses of her midnight hair sprawled around her head,
lips red, eyes glowing deviously, cheeks flushed,
her incandescent smile widens as her delicate small fingers
fiddle with the buttons of her white gown.
I walk and fall into my imprisonment,
knowing I have descended into the depths of temptation.

// Wicked : Memorable years carried them safely into the abyss of life,
but closer to the wayward districts and an unending strife,
Folly emanated by temptations, nourished by debauchery,
fickle words imprisoning love like slavery.
For her, she was subdued long ago, no shame under her sleeve,
left behind was he, for he fell deeper into the abyss, forever naive.
His heart was blind, his memories delicately aligned that will never unwind.
Darkest heart reformed within a traitor’s nest,
adorned with sham catered within the liar’s oven near the breast,
fraud, fraud, fraud, these memories fabricated like the dealer’s money,
nothing remains, but the false-hearted girl standing so lovely.
Murdering senseless verses of what-could-be’s
he sought for her wandering heart, cloaked within the dawn,
forlorn did his journey seem for he could not feel her there,
but her eyes did emit hope that she was not yet wholly gone.
By and by the words became drunk
with endeavors under the pursuit of love,
the fiery dreams lingering upon the dove’s wing
and with a kiss from a knight her lady sings.
Oh, what fairytale did he yearn to belong in,
But happiness to him was dead, long forgotten and foreign,
for such things were cast away, banished with no integrity for remembrance.
And in the end, dead the soul had become, a token to his sacrament of his deliverance.
After all...
Why draw the blood when you’re not fighting for love?

// Human : In fair lion’s den, courage swept unarmed
thieved by refugees of the Forsaken - sheer flagrancy of soul and mind
A floridity of unjust cruelty by Man.

Aloft the sun-dried skies there the face of God is seen
the summit of mysticism that lies in decayed pools of spurning
forged from the unfaith and absence of immorality.

Tow the drowned hearts unto shore,
let there be life once more.

// Antique Loss : She hailed her King with desperation,
With a heart sodden with maladies feral,
And a morality churning with darkness
Her mind lapsed into the depths of a foreign lunacy.

Tears forged the pathways to her reprisal,
Yet soulful whispers left her to His name,
"May my children find eternal bliss in your sanctums,
Give sweet refuge to my beloved when at midnight he lies awake."

The final dawn broke into streams of despair,
But alas the darkness retreated to its unknown cove,
Though still prisoner to her nefarious reverie,
Her corpse lay peacefully under the starry sky, passive to history.