Dorian

Pure child with golden curls like silk,
Enveloped in a rosy air;
Soft features, skin smooth and pale as milk -
Your portrait is a shrine for prayer.
But beware, Dorian, beware…

Narcissus kneels down at the lake,
In nature’s mirror, strong and fair,
His heart, his mind in deepest ache,
They overflow with worshipping and care.
Beware, Dorian, beware…

Time has no power over you,
And no one, no one sees it there:
Behind the folding screen, away from view;
The sight is more than you can bear,
Beware, Dorian, beware…

But there’s a crack, a breach, a hole
In your once flawless flower display case - despair
Creeps in and slithers; eats your insides whole.
Now millions are to hunt down your flair.
Beware, dear Dorian, beware…

As lust carves out it’s venomous black rivers
Into your soul, it, trapped and tortured, does not dare
Carve up your face that of a seraph into slivers,
Your fated twin, however, does it mercilessly pare.
Beware, oh Dorian, beware…