Formed upon shifting, sinking sands of forever,
held taut by blind faith….sadly nothing more,
wrought at my hands, so benighted my vision,
fired by passion's flame & misdeeds ill forged.
Thus, scorned is my unrest on this bed of nails.
By hallowed moon's eye, I lay restless upon it;
in scarlet-tinged gown once of sacred, silken white.
Oblivious to the searing shards of pain unto me,
I've sacrificed my stricken soul to this hopeless plight.
Thus, I witness my fate upon this bed of nails.
Blood courses frigidly faint throughout my being;
yet flowing in my heart….a river of molten gold.
Tempered by truth; shunned each day's new dawning
for I know all too well what each day will hold.
Thus, I banish all hopes on this bed of nails.
Doused are the flames of my hidden passions;
Overcome by torrential tears of a tainted love.
Turned back are the covers of my weary conscious;
Trembling I lay beneath them...never to rise above.
Thus, destined by stoic grip to this bed of nails.
