A Welcome Displeasure - And Hell Followed With

It was in tragedy of reflection that is
Oh purest of nights was to drink incessantly from these veins
Beauty in comparison to no other
A standard made in flesh will in sickening glory run feverishly upon the razor's edge
Admiration
This night shall end
How she loathes the sight of herself
And with every frantic thrust
Her pallid supple veins
Showered in orgasmic tides of crimson
Have quivered at their very sight
What once was desired is now a mere sickening depiction
A face so macabre
Convulsions induced by vomiting
No more a seductress
No less a queen
In detest of her mere reflection
Her youthful complexion once adorned
The paths carved through arterial fabrication at the hands of herself
You disgust me
She cries with hoarseness in her throat
The razor
Its soliloquy silences all
How beautiful its merciless sway
Her eyes
They close for one last time
All impurities unwashed in this filth and dishonor