Ace Of Black Hearts

Bronze Star - 2,422 Points (04/17/1984 / Homa Lousiana)

A Twisted Smile - Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

A minds sudden collaboration.
Star studded fascination, if I touch it I will know it.
If I know it I will own it.
Be the mighty master.
With the wave of the hands.
Hear the demands and make this happen.
The crowd speaks, the crowd roars.
Chants of the everlasting.
Spirits forever roaming.
All consuming, oh I never want to stop.
Even if the needle drops.
Always so clumsy with the double edge sword.
One day it will be me who gets impaled.
One day it will be me gasping for air.
Today it is but candle stick that stands tall with a mighty dancing flame.
Wild and untamed.
A gallant ruthless ambitious beast.
Who will never be satisfied with a single feast.
Indulge in my little treat.
Blood licking sweet.
It's raining candy canes.
And as they fall I can still imagine the words is that all?
Never is it enough.
Wicked is the gravy.
Taking a train head on.
Somebody please save me.
When I act like this it is so dangerous.
Nothing to lose.
An overdose in clues.
A little pink note book with all the fairy tales locked away.
In the dungeon, the lair forever to keep.
My very own precious.
Petty, yet alluring to all the wrong demons.
The monster inside screams in glee.
If I could ever be so happy this might be it.
The wounding arrow must have missed.
Because this is both heaven and bliss in one great succulent kiss.
The pleasure is all mine.
A pulsing skin reaching right in.
First contact of an encounter unlike any other kind.
If this is alien, all that is foreign is more then welcome.
This is a invitation with a contract of souls.
Chain me to this beat, chain me to this retreat.
Forgive me if I seem overly excited, I just hope this process gets expedited.
Need my signature, watch me bleed.
This will be the closing chapter in a book never read.
With so many words left unsaid, I don't care the price put on my head.
Worthy deemed the cause.
Elusive the spirit which was never met to be caught.
Nets made out of silver, bear traps made out of gold.
Behold I'm just not sold, not a dollar spent towards this dissociative disease.
Go ahead put a gun against my head and tell me to get on my knees.
You might get a better response if you say please.
Escaping the reality.
I'm smiling as I will in my very last moments of a good life lived.
There were some great experiences.
And those treasure are all mine, no matter the set given amount of time.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, February 22, 2014

Poem Edited: Sunday, February 23, 2014

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