Make a smile, for a token, to see love eternal,
Our moment cannot be stale,
In the haze of fear, without a paradise to conquer,
Without a home that we cannot see
Itself to age, alike to us, and we’ll not remain young.
No love, not even the right sort,
Has ever conquered time,
I will see beauty perish, and see your hair turn to ashes.
I will see this home rot, when either you or I
Leave this wretched Earth.
We are, within arms, for but a moment,
To next peer,
And find age to our skin, age to our home,
Age to our hearts, and age to our minds.
I am in love, not for the moment,
But for the future,
Your breasts made of porcelain,
And lips made of granite,
You taste the ash that nestles against your mouth.
There is charm to each spread of that filth,
It is knowledge kept to be a burden,
The knowing of an ultimate surrender,
To the horrors of time.
I see the mirror; I see myself, I see you,
I see all the capturing to my spirit,
I see love Devilish, and hatred non-existent,
I see beauty as the man-made current of fortune.
Breasts of porcelain, and lips of granite,
There are futures to marry, and pasts to slay,
There are desires to keep,
And flesh to betray.
I make beauty bold,
Never to be aroused from the cold.