Not to lonely sleep

 Suffused by a perverse illusion of love
The passing of wasted time has left
My calamitous heart disgorged and my
Trembling hands are devoid of all things merciful

I sought refuge within the plaintive lines
Of my soldier's love poem and lusted
For the tangible emotion of elusive desires
Never truly felt of by my wanton soul

My stone-eyed harrier, my cruel lover
Came beckoning from behind an elegant,blue script
His heart full of torch songs and star shadow
And his hands, lovely abrasions upon my skin

His passion is such that it hurts
He calls me slut , he calls me tramp
And I will be those fallen angels
For him. Only for him

A soldier's kiss is always rough
Women he left behind to find me waiting
Growing into something more than each alone
I swallow it, falling into the arms of .....?