A Doomed Scherzando

Haughty eyes   
I turn on your nodding, Darling,   
my plans for the evening   
not yet becoming;   
not till you're sleeping.   
My splintered conscience is only kindling   
for the blazing inferno   
beginning below.   
Sense, intelligence   
tingling with promise   
of lust -     
promises, trust broken, but   
nothing of ours, Darling,   
was ever enough.   
   
...............................   
   
My sentence might have been laid  
to the Second* -   
seduced   
too smooth and quick,   
the devil's fingers   
lips, tongue, dick drew juices:   
sweet respite   
from angels' tunes   
sung constant in my mind.   
   
But my soul was signed away to the Eighth**   
by baiting all 'round,   
by viciously   
taking them down   
one at a time   
designing, combining   
newer ways   
of spinning lies   
to wrap them to lips      
of spinning ties   
to wrap them to tips      
my puppets, hopping   
to staggered metronomes'   
ticking and tocking     
in a brilliant scherzando   
   
I'll tell them all, you know   
that they've been played;   
blame the other for corrupting my nature   
as they fight for ego   
their own interests   
just slightly strained   
by disarray created   
in their friendly midst   
   
And one long day   
while steeping in shit,     
I may wish     
I'd listened to the angels.   
   
   
   
References to the circles of Hell in Dante's Inferno:   
*    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Circles_of_hell#Second_circle_.28lust.29   
**  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Circles_of_hell#Eighth_circle_.28fraud.29