“Where’s my Soul, you ask?”

“Give me some pink,” I say;

For I’ve always loved the light blush of roses.

“They love Red,” said the Madame,

Handing me a box of rogue and lipsticks.

For countless nights since

Lusty hounds have torn at my body.

But my soul—

My soul they could not touch.

For long ago I had buried my soul

Beneath the semi-darkness of this unholy whore-house.

And in the cold cold years that passed

Never once have I sought its warmth.

‘Coz if I did—

I shall burn in its unforgiving wrath.

5 comments

  1. makeshiftsunshine · May 12, 2015

    This one is good!

    Liked by 1 person

    • reron121 · May 12, 2015

      Thanks…it’s my personal favorite so far.

      Like

  2. The SoulSearcher · May 17, 2019

    Nice composition ❤

    Like

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