Better Left Than Lonely

As long as there are 'pretty women', shall be men, Hell bent of will, to rot the world...to give them what they want, to grant them anything, break any law...to gnaw the bone of their taboo, in secret sinistry, so dark...they think, no one will see the things they do.

Fidelity, cannot survive 'a devil's tool. The wasp, that is your dream, is someone else's fool, and love will only play, then love will sneak away, at times of moons...like wolves astray, baying at another's door.

Your sheets will lay, unwarmed...by anyone, but you. It isn't fair, that it's this way, but you were warned...for Kings and Cardinal's and Saints, have been displaced...by a pretty woman's face. Are you so strong, to take it on yourself...for one warm kiss, one night of bliss...to your nether parts?

The only thing, can hold, 'her satin self' is strength beyond a mortal power, and riches, well beyond your world...better left alone, these shores, where Siren's sing, than death of love and, death of hope and sadness, evermore.


Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: Pretty Woman, Vanity Fair