Maya

Maya, a fever,
A fervor, my Maya true.
Last night I trembled
Petrified and blue.

Purity is not lost,
Among lines that scar your face,
Amidst the gathering of restless ghosts,
Maya, a death so full of grace

Your body is a canvas,
With blue patches and red lashes,
Nails that bore deep behind,
Eyes of fear reveal thy mind.

Your face is a thousand tethered images
Of love, lost in earthly vines,
Amidst countless grim visages,
You emerge a death most divine.

Oh, awaken me with your wintry lips,
Your summer skin shone under the moonlight,
Let my hands guide thy autumnal hips,
Oh Maya, how can death look a delight?

Maya, a fever,
A fervor, my Maya true.
Tonight I tremble,
Petrified and blue.

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