Scarlet bathes in absence. Scarlet bathes in fire and blood. Her heart made of poison vines, her lips seal death under a sulfur sky. Pain is beauty that remains in fading lights that thrive through infinite illusions which dwell in the soul of men; Passing through the dissolution roars where whores and filth piled savage and lethal on the floor. Echo, echo and await in the pale fair fire flames; Shown a dweller of the illusion realm, carrying dust-devils through shrill cries. There she will quiver with lust and rapture. Bring you wine for the sabbath. A cup of blood for you lively saints, blessed in seductions eyes painted wide a-wake. Scarlet undresses, the beast in-lay; The woman of the world is playing a game. And time it shatters; And the sun is slain and reborn again, every day. Agape are the illusions; Our very own transfixed. Oh her body of fire and silk. Red flames from embers in her hair. A body so fair that lay under the lights of Babalon. Such darkness dilutes into destitute, a concave of the mind where the foul pollute; Beast abides the hand of Scarlet. And from all paved roads the souls of humanity wept under their own silhouettes. For desires so deep in the roaring night haunting their dreams and illusions in delight. There was perfume in their blood, there was scarlet in their mouth and lips, the tongues a red rum harlot. In the snow of winter there was fire, and in the depths of rain was the two solitudes that grew into one another. ‘’Like rain hitting the sea, you were with me’’ she whispered, humming a sweet death note. Broken romantics dance throughout the nights abyss to kill all the emptiness of Scarlets kiss.