Nazi Paris

Do images of I appear in her thoughts?

Or simply the fostering of quaint fantasies?

Through all pandemonium paramour is sought

Though warded within profound secrecy



Frantic I plea for reprieve

To recover voluminous wounds

Renounce excuse to grieve

Slaughter the walls of this cocoon



'Tis never known where time will guide us

Underneath the sun she soaked hollow promises

Issuing surreal decrees decayed of trust

To romantic encounters she remains a novice



Genuine amour long since faded

Perennial you've become jaded