Lustful Angst

A leaf of green, in branch unknown –
It breathes a life that’s of its own;
So sheds itself in seasons unholy
When winter breeds melancholy.

What talks of Man, it lies within
The greyish patch that reeks of sin;
The eyes that seek of love not wed
When pur’ty tends to leave the bed.

What poisons thought is but that lust,
That sorrowed noise that sings at dusk
That leaves a scar and painful sore
And rocks life right into its core.

What breeds in life, all angels fear –
Is not of death that comes to near
But simple glance that steal the heart
And lust that can break bread apart.

The blood of lies, the wine of cries
Flows in that fount’ of life that dies
From rainbow eyes so full of vain
That shed a tearful-coloured pain.