This Deadly Sin

A poem of late night indulgences

This Deadly Sin

A silken tongue that preaches peace
While licking up my cold and fear,
I crave its pull to stay the freeze,
And any haunts with its glowing sphere.
For long, I stare—it holds me tight,
The dancing flame so beckoning;
A candle lonely in the night,
But for my selfish company.

The scarlet wax drips on my skin;
The look and feel of fresh spilled blood,
So warm, so soft, this deadly sin
That sweetly smells of cut rosebuds.
I tilt the taper, slowly first
And watch the rivulets roll and sway
In their dance, their serpentine curse
'Til the wick snuffed cold in dismay.

The flickering light disappears,
Shutting me once more in darkness
With my dreams and eyes hung tired,
Watching languid smoke curls caress
The rafters of my vaulted room,
As the chill and ghosts creep nearer
To my thick quilt and blanket tomb.
My thoughts grow dim as dawn appears.