Art of Sacrifice of Art

We have a pencil
And a sharp knife
We shall draw
We shall carve
And bleed out our hearts






Infatuation


Why?

Must I?

Why think of you?

Lips ruby red, eyes crystal blue

Scent of jasmine, laughter of the faery, ancient Celtic goddess.

I lust for you as a desert for water, sin so great it over whelms me, can bare it no longer, on knees I beg, forgiveness!



from:

EISENWYRM: THE BREAKING OF A BEAUTIFUL MIND



Copyright © 2006 Gabriel Wayne Long



All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or in portions thereof, in any form.