Dark Twisted Fantasy

GREED that five letter word takes a life of its own,
Its tentacles reaching out from beneath my skin grasping at the strings of my soul,
My legs are compelled by the force of its energy, driving me like strong winds into the dark waters.
Caution thrown to the wind, aggression boiling my blood over.
The light that had shown from my eyes have turned a blistering red.
My actions like sharp twisted fangs are wrought with the direction of its Lust.

LUST like poisoned honey sliding low from inside, pollutes my skinSending my body into writhing agony, forcefully jerking my legs into submission
Obsession clouds my judgment, my spirit once pure is tainted like the embers of fire ignited with petrol
My fingers claw at my hair, pulling it from my roots, drowning in its unpure ocean
Lips glisten with unforged burning desire.

DESIRE like fast paced drum beats in an African shrine leave me without sleep.
I lie awake in zombie like stillness as the night turns into morning.
My hands stretching like iroko trees reaching out for a lover missing in form.
As the dawn arrives I writhe like a snake escaping its prey, desperately grasping to the bed sheets
My lips parched from an unquenched thirst unashamed to beg for a sip of your lips.
Confused you struggle with my deity, incomprehensively unsure of your next move, wondering if this was madness.

MADNESS seven words engraved on my skin, I sit up unwashed and unclothe as you cow in fear,
Staring at me like an animal caged in a zoo, men in white suits poking at me,
I hear the annoyance tinge your voice as you address me
Wondering how your star protégée lost your script
Paying for professionals to poke behind my hair, trying to ascertain what’s underneath my brain.
You fool, you over pompous exuberant clown, feigning ignorance at my predicament,
Paying experts to tell you what you already know. It’s not madness that eats away at my soul
Nor have I been plagued by an unwritten ailment, what I have you cannot cure.
What I need you cannot provide, I want what I cannot have,
I dare not speak of it for fear of your wrath but what I want is the sweet release of freedom.