The paradigm of bliss Hot whispers on the wind In swan-like curves I graced salvation Amidst both worlds I promised her Eternity would be beautiful Yet on the cusp I still not truly dared Her eyes plied hard a burning will Beseeching on her knees Like Salome unfulfilled I hung between two thieves Guilt and spilt desire Until that flame became a fire All consuming With strength renewed I turned again Death all lit up by my perfect victim And she grew The scourge of men They hissed her name in perverted dictum Now we walk, our cavorting auras Feed the lengthy shadows with their sullen lullabies The fragrant night air filled with haunting chorus Clouds draw cobweb threads across a bloodied moonrise Illicitus Illicit Us