Did you like her?
Was she smooth as silk?
A lady of hopes and dreams and of flesh and despair?
Did you like him?
Was he a loverman? Amazing?
Gentle in touch and truly full of despair?
Combine them and you'll have a being of light.
A creature depraved of lust and rust and despair.
The thing on the threshold knows my name.
It's shouting curses, words of blame.
The thing in my arms don't make a sound.
Never really noticed it until now.
The thing on my back is laughing still drewling poison, makes me ill.
And laughter is contagious as you know
With a mad man's grin.
On I go.