Your Deadly Tune

Your beauty is a perfect silent song
Sirens sing your notes the whole night long
That deadly tune, to which I croon
Brought me to the gallows here at dawn.

Your Mona Lisa lips are apple smooth
From that fruit my love in vain could not remove
A forbidden taste I tried, before I choked and nearly died
Now here I am with nothing left to prove.

Your voice was like an esoteric orchard
Where words were grown on trees of truth, and captured
When a sudden shift of violence, exhumed the grave of silence
And whispered in my ear as I was tortured.

My body like a broken portrait hangs
In the gallery of unenlightened man
I hang here in the place, of every rat who raced
And to your tune had followed as they sang.