Chambers of Screams and Sighs

Primal passion's slasher
lurking in the cerebral catacombs,
closeted compulsions clones
stalk with carcinigen cravings.

Chained obsession's goblins
hiding their conscience suicide kits,,
waiting for opportune seconds
in illumined decay
to cut the bonds of moral nuptials.

Fiery stabs of their carnivore sickles
filet the shrouds of presumption,
until in the darkness
where trepidation thrives in shades of gray,
shooting stars of revelation
explode with a twinkle in epiphany's pinpricks.

For in the midnight of our secrets
where our dragons drool their vile spiritual acid
there flickers the candle of ethereal flame
never fully quenched, though oft does it smolder.

Dwelling within a circus tent of stewed reality
not swallowed whole by black behemoths
rising from their vile nests,
nor able to sleep in surrender within purity's cocoon,
heard is hell's whispers in sync
with heaven's hum,
adjusting volume of mind's stereo
until harmony of listening to both
doesn't end with insanity,
unwilling to stop appreciating the howling tease of vile song
or completely be capable of only enjoying a harp's chorus.