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The Waltz of the Whore

He is up in his pulpit again

Preachin’ like a preacher man

Screeching lurid obscenities

Oh why can’t he just let me be?

Viola Bow, Poetess

Viola Bow, Poetess

He is up on his mighty pedestal

Declaring Armageddon for all

He yells and screams and pesters me

Save yourself or you’re history!

As I writhe in my cesspit

I wonder is this really it?

Do these asps of obscurity

Really come to feed off me?

I mingle with demons

As you bleat out your sermons

I dance with them all

The waltz of the whore

Oh! how this makes you smile

As I lie with my snakes

That devious grin as my earth quakes

The passion that once was ours

Is hollow now, brittle and sour

How pleased you are to see me like this

Fragile, alone and tortured by bliss

Empty in my Jezebel shell

Fractured in my kingdom of hell

Bothered by your servitude

Staggered by your attitude

Longing for your gratitude

Alone once more, betrayed

How enraptured you are by my tales of sin

If only I could let you in!

You would see a desert of sand

The Great Sahara of no man’s land

A figment of imagination

A wandering Pharisee needing salvation

You would see more than shallow smiles

And lecherous kisses and witchcraft trials

You would see an ocean of pain

A once happy child with no-one to blame

You would see an empty creek bed

A woman who leaves too much unsaid

A traitor trapped in purgatory

As she dreams beneath her willow tree

But you say nothing

You mean nothing

I mean nothing

We should mean something by now

But you do nothing

You speak nothing

I pray nothing

We should say something by now

I’ll dance my dance on the ballroom floor

Before you burn me on the stake

I’ll take my chance as I waltz with the whore

And you watch my limbs break

I’ll dance with them all!

And then some more!

And how will you save this soul, decrepit

As you preach all your preachin’ on your mighty pulpit?

1 Comment»

  Louie in USA wrote @

poetessness
i had to revisit this one
again


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