Confession

Bleeding from the roof top,your lips quiver
As if morning blazed in high regards upon
Stained hands reaching for the fall,as I cup
The blood with the skin of my teeth,foul and yet
worthy form of ominous creations bathed beneath
the rooftop as you bleed bold flavors for my
taste gingerly rushed the sent of your skin as
I rave in the morning light playing my flute
fore Ive shattered your mind and loath your cries,for your
lips spoke in withering shame there i bleed
you dry upon a god I offer the lamb for the taste
Of the whore bleeding over me..