A man had three faces. 
One that he showed to his father and his mother.
One that he showed to his sisters and brothers.
One that he showed only to his lover,
But what face does he see in the mirror?

Dark Eyes

Dark eyes are my friend

Bright eyes are all dead

No one replies to the letters I send

No one sees the tears I bled

Bright eyes are my enemy

A cold-hearted incision

Introduction to sodomy

A wholesome intrusion

Teeth bright like stars

Pale face like the grave

So raw are our scars

We were both slaves

Teeth tasting flesh

Bright eyes look away

Sleep in the tomb it's fresh

Don't forget to pray

Dark eyes are my friend

Bright eyes are all are dead

I never meant to offend

No one cared what I said

Bright eyes are my enemy

Giving way to entropy

Introduction to sodomy

No one really hears me

Teeth rotting away

Giving in to decay

Virility cannot stay

Let the weak ones obey

Teeth red with blood

Skin caught between

You're drowning in a flood

Goodbye catheter queen

Death Is A Fetish

Death is a fetish

And love is pneumatic

A death can be immortalized in silver

Our heroes drop dead like flies

And no one has a father

Death is a fetish

And charity aristocratic

A murder is turned into a circus

We create new monsters every day

And everyone stumbles in the darkness

Death is a fetish

And sanity is idiotic

A man burned at the stake is a game

We scream so loud over the din

Hoping someone will know our name

Death is a fetish

And love is pneumatic

Fika

The only infinity is death, and the only eternity is mortality

We could spend a night together and accomplish nothing

My dear sometimes nothing is it's own sweet something

Drawing gods with our tears
As demons drown in our coffee

Feeling hopelessly hopeful
As we sink into this our own eternity

Flesh rots, and skin dies
But souls and spirits live on
Loneliness of the body is brief
But hearts embrace each other in spite of the space between

We can sit in silence
Or shout as we dance

We can create a symphony

Or with colors take a chance

Speaking words no one has ever spoken
Laughing as we admit that these shapeless hearts of ours are broken

Knowing that no matter what it's all a dream

That this fable of ours is simply steam

Writing odes to madness and sonnets to insanity

Breathing comfortably in this haze

Smiling with pride at our obscurity

Wer Ist Die Metzger?

Du bist.