He entered the Black Eagle at a crazy, frenetic pace;
An urgent man, desperately seeking solitude and solace.
Attempting to hide, he’d glimpsed her unknowable face;
Pale, radiant eyes, full of uncertain grace.
Those almond shaped pools of liquid ambiguity;
Hinting a sublime innocence and indecent sexuality.

She had a thousand lost souls mirrored inside her heart;
Her wings beating at his face, a lively black lark.
Breaching his psyche; a tiny crack of light;
A conduit to the sin city of his tormented geist;
Causing the wolf to crawl away and out from under his skin;
stripping him bare, teasing at the beast deep within.

She burrowed away, a dark, morbid and passionate mole,
through the rotting earth of his dark, decaying soul;
she was a magpie, pecking at that desolated spirit;
the warm touch of her velvet gloved hand,
causing the flame to leap among his fading embers
his blackened heart, lost, in a dank, stygian land; dismembered.

Her dreamy scorpion, appeared alive, and poking fun;
From her luxurious lips and overtly sensuous tongue,
She taught him to welcome the black hole of dread,
And he learnt well the gothic art of the living dead.

She became his teacher; allowing him to take his pleasure,
without seeking permission, never needing to measure;
because her time was his time, and his life became fine;
blissful, enraptured, and full of that thrill seeking craving,
that leads to indolence and always, waiting, waiting, waiting.
That dazed, crazed old wolf, was under her spell,
As into the mad abyss, they call love; he fell.

Causing him to flee, the prison of his twin, eternal personality;
accepting her offer of everlasting life and immortality.
The price to be paid for this healing process?
Entry to a deranged world, a magic theatre of the bloody absurd;
And descent into savage, murderous, unhinged bloody madness.

Copyright © DC 2005