Such things undone

To wit the decadent crone

From the sickening sweet

Left in the floors and walls

Sitting in the tangled mess

In all that becomes this and death

Little strips of you on my hands

Sticky little drips that are you

From the pale cheek

Where tears once rolled

To your feet shred

And places you would tread

Tore you little by little

Till you were dead.

SHALIMAR Shalimar

Scent of time so far

Past and now mixed

The moments to minutes

Conjure old memories

Thought feeling lost

In serotonin chains

Now flow with ‘motions vain

Recaptured by lonely thought

Of other forsaken times

Shalimar Shalimar