The Call
What is it that draws?
The beauty seeps and falls
Delicate notes will fill the air
Tainting
The cries turned hoarse
Raw
Tears come forth at this unmistakable lust
Taste
Notes strike accord
Never veering in their path
No disaccord
Only beauty and love remain
Ever-twisting in their silent dance
Pulling, without the normality
The pain
It rises! Oh, how it shouts
Tainted, innocence
Beauty
Turning the pure
Their true forms
Nothing to hide them
Wondrous and striking
The first
Never ending cords
This love, lust, art
Grows, slumbers in the wake
Night comes and it rises
Flowing
Graceful
Lust
Passionate to know the truth
What hides beneath the mask
Seeps into the bone
Oh, how it laughs
Mocks
Hides beneath the skin
Drawing through haze
Truth
Beauty
The call