The Queen of Night
The night club queen just doesn't care
since everyone loves her anyway,
they being all to her just fools and slaves of love,
of drugs and alcohol, of libido and sex,
while she just leisurely enjoys their folly,
laughing at the feebleness of man,
his most ridiculous self-humiliation
for the whims and beauty of just any wanton woman;
but I will have none of it and rather cure my anger
at this gross unworthiness and terrible abuse of love
in bitter isolation and tempestuous fury
to rather plague myself with tortuous frustration
than risk touching any one of those abusive dames
who gladly sacrifice whatever chance of sincere love they had
for just a moment of abusive pleasure
of the opportunity to trample down all human feelings.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
Read 420 times
Written on 2007-05-11 at 10:10
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