...Yet The Choirs Of Vendetta

Secret envy
Their statues
Lie
Shattered...

Like crystal chains that bind the vain in myriad egos lost

A roaring mechanism
An engine of sorts
Pounding without
Rest

Burning
Fed with chaos
And
Beauty

A fragrance of the dead
The flavour of decadence
Upon the gypsy's lips

Shivering in Paradise...

Their delusions to the furnace
Stripped of pride
Drenched in shame
Flesh and filth

Innocent Thespian, of what speakest thou?

A furnace burning
Fed with chaos
And beauty

Rustling leaves upon concrete
Dancing like mice to the flute
In grand bewitchment

Yet the choirs of vendetta shapeless, in shrouds
Praising the Unicorn and the Trinity
As they stumble and fall, maintain postures of Gala
Shading the ridicule of a glass arena

And a stringed Minotaur

A roaring mechanism
An engine of sorts
Pounding without
Rest

Burning
Fed with chaos
And
Beauty