The Sad Emperors Confessions

 

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For my Messalina as I, Claudius from Rome. 37 AD. Speak down through history.

From all those sad love letters left behind

I still sometimes read whenever I feel the deep need

All those special poignant ones which still call to me

In the whispering darkness like faithful acolytes

Even though they always cut so deep afterwards like a sharp butcher’s knife

Those dark ones

Which salivate as they smother and conquer my every heaving breath

All those secretly treasured ones which still stink and reek with delicious samples of your Machiavellian so tempting perfume

Tinged with a mischievous seductive glint of guilt

Which I always see like lonely people engulfing each and every corner and dark shadows of this

Our old bedroom

A tranquil tangible scent

A subtle hint of all the wild memories of upcoming salacious sin

We once so wantonly engaged within victoriously

Yes you know the ones

All those French kissed pacts

Old whispered saliva sealed symbolic symbols

Of our impervious brush from on high above

Where you once said so delicately and so evocatively

I love you and painted a magnificent priceless portrait

In sweet kisses

So visually compellingly the legendary Michelangelo would have cried

If he had bared witness or tasted a drop of it before he died

You stated so bravely to the congregation of shadows and to the watching Nether World

In this life and above all its many claps of thunder

You'd be my mine forever

You'd stay to help me conquer uncharted wild treacherous mountains

Unruly blue and green waves and be my one and only wife

In this version of our new lease of life

But I suppose presumptuous deeds done in the Basking of The Witching Hour

After the stroke of Midnight

Especially when the Full Wolf Moon looks down hungrily and roars in silent smug victory

When young impish minds once cognitive and free from devious outside manipulation

Lie so drunk on white wine and divine lines of lazy cocaine as it outside rains

Totally sated on true human emotions in every vibrating form

But still so vulnerable to mystical dark visceral interventions

Of dark beings beyond the mortal norm

Where they can slowly but tentatively use dirty magic to introduce those carefully rendered unconscious

To step on to those dark pathways

Towards their badlands of Immorality and Ruination

But I guess those who choose to get wildly drunk or even high

Those who choose to go blindly and willingly

Or to be even manipulated subtly and convinced to utter wild oaths of fidelity

Way past midnight into the lonely witching hours should always be forgiven

This is my only wish as I stand here watching my old world burn

From here to eternity and back

As I remorsefully remember our first kiss that sealed our now unholy pact

Which announced to the watching shadow people and the Nether World

All our willful undoing

For you  

My vision of perfection

A Goddess Incarnate

I will always still wait

Just like another cursed fool

A now patient resident just condemned forever to stand still in this crazy asylum

Many goyim call Mother Gaia

With you as my cruel cold owner

My own ice queen who now sheds no more tears

My everlasting painful cherished spiritual addiction from who I always long to pray to hear

To free me from these rusty chains which keep me a prisoner in old lands

Where we were once free and never had any fears but looked forward to conquering all upcoming frontiers

Before secret unseen societies tore us apart and left me with this

A sad token of their misdemeanours

A red and golden medal which lies pinned deep above whatever I try to wear

Just sometimes a visible token of my dammed emotional state

I once to hide

Using expensive bright clothes and fake smiles to conceal from the watching world

My now broken heart

Copyright John Duffy