Eternal Man's Woe

The internal struggle of a man who's soul is damned.

         Eternal Man's Woe

We danced in moonlit gardens to a tune
that stirred my blood within to follow to
her Midas hair, a treasure trove of locks,
inviting across alabaster skin.
The velvet dress that caught the woman's feet
made easy prey, and short work of the game;
her smoldering eyes turned dim and then she said,
"No lives you take will return your lost soul."

I mourned for countless nights upon the sea
of life that long ago abandoned me.
They screamed and ran through labyrinths I've long known,
as likely to live as I was to die.
I turn away, their eyes too much to bear;
a window to my soul that burns in hell.