That dismal night they wore the night
as if it were a dark cloak
Prowling out of the cold grinning mouths of jackals
dripped a ravenous drool
much to be compared to the kiss of a untamed shrew
I value the factor of love
but cannot handle the symptoms that follow;
lust, fury & finally a sweltering persian death
A symptom I much loathe
yet oddly treasure
The vow I make is eternal
and so are the scars on my ragged soul