Bliss

I

I know nothing

Not of the sands of Egypt nor the winters of Siberia.

I know nothing

Not of the shape of your figure nor the crown upon your head.

I know nothing

Not of your earthly desires or your heavenly pursuits.

I know nothing

Not of my deepest wants or my disturbed dreams.

I know nothing

Not of miracle starred nights or darkened clouds.

I know nothing

Not of pale skinned warriors or dark hued beauties.

I know nothing

Not of forked tongues or court jesters spinning tales,

Or of majestic pitons or decayed rubble.

II

I know nothing

but dark souls and twisted angels,

Champagne soaked tongues and blurry nights,

descents into madness and bonfires of inquisition.

I know nothing

yet wallow in orgy tinged dreams and breathe in poisoned air,

dance in the dying embers of your darkest fears,

swim in the empty pools of your eyes,

drink the wretched murk of your psyche

and smile as my scythe knights your soul.

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