little poppies of pain

    
sadness cultivates madness
in my garden of shadows
windowpane sin so transparent it's painful
 
there are no easy answers
when jealousy blossoms
out of the darkness, it's wrought  
 
when sexual endeavors
turn into something it ought not
feelings emerge where there should be none
 
little poppies of disdain
love and hate choke each other out
here in the badlands of desire