Paris (James Rustic)

Standing above the world I can still view the living.

I am alone, unworthy of your desire or loving.
An unfinished puzzle that could never be completed,
Missing pieces that merciless Time has deleted,
Holds more potential than my melancholy being.

No sooner shall another taste the honey of your love,
Than I shall throw upon you my vengeance from above.
Even then my jealousy and lust will not be appeased,
As I glance down at the mortals, all sick and diseased.

This is the one thing that we have always desired;
It is the evil, the demon that we believe is required.
Love, the Bastille of the entire world’s depression.

It is our drug, our shortfall, and our obsession.
And I am the only one aware of this, God’s devilish plot,
Standing above the earth, watching the world wither and rot!