Prince of Lies

“Prince of Lies”

Life is a precious thing worth wasting—
This forbidden fruit we have been tasting
Grows not sour on my lips, pressed against thine.
O! darling, would that such an Eden was mine!

Lay me down by the river that flows not
Out to the sea. For, frozen, I cannot
Follow the stream that leads me from
The paradise of error this garden’s become.

Led astray by an angel that shed new skin,
I was already a child of sin.
Your arrow pierced me to the marrow.
In the darkness, I could find your shadow,

I wait for the night to fall on this paradise
Haunted by the flesh that we sacrifice
In a breath, exhaled from our imbalance,
While I take the key to unlock your silence.

You wear a veil of many handsome faces
Outside the garden. Here, there are no traces
Of the masquerade. You are weary of it, I see
And this is what brings you home to me.

Lay your hands on my soul, prince of lies.
With every parting, my heart in anguish cries
A pain ambrosial, a pain my heart worships:
Reverence for the poison nectar of your lips.

O! With every parting, I die in bliss
Of what may follow a future kiss.
I feel it, I feel it stopping my heart,
My every dying breath as you depart—

To be a wraith without you for a phase
Of countless moons ‘till I see your face,
Feel my body quake all of desire
For your touch, all of fire.

This is our Hell…eternal night of fantasy.
Lover, I beg thee, be the flame which burns me.
Take your time in my torment, as I descend
Into the desired fires of The End.


© 2022 Marten Hoyle