love is dead*

   
   
   
   
   
 
 
L eft  you tremble in delirium of exstasy in turn with melancholy    
O ver, so  never will rise again in same trust to magic unity    
V ernicular of last phon-talk  is merely what remains behind on ground    
E vil  of passion still blinds, spreading elation of masochistic wounds    
   
I ngridients are written in ethereal heaven    
S o long as i drift in infernal maze    
   
D eath cracks her mostly dire grin straight to marrow  any moment i touch this phantom's face    
E voke me, inside out,  dwindle into dasein of nothing than last lost ghost    
A lter ego-disguised self trills, whereas any imaginable    
D ream, descends numb in temple of doom, leaving neither glint nor shadow of it's once so beauteous endearing flame    
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
*written to following  picture, taken seven winters ago.