PICTURES OF DORIAN GRAY

Waiting for the sun
Facing toward the east
Was our sacrifice rejected
because it was no blatant beast?
Fold your hands and speak in tongues
Find the secrecy of forever young
Keep the faith amidst the deterrent
winds of change and pagan feasts.
I can hear the gentle passions playing
The satanic simpletons say it’s plain
We see an octopus clutch the pope
and the pious won’t complain.
I had wished for a fashionable slaying
as his actress lost her hope.
However the infidels hid in his portrait
until poor Dorian went insane.
Crawling is an albatross
from the tragic scene.
Will we catch the pretty face
of Oscar’s blue idol.
Was the pleasure ride
simply a morbid pun?
Was the murderer there
to ruin the angel’s fun?
The gorgeous princess
left the stage for space.
She dedicated, her voice declared
her life to serve him nonetheless.
As she lost his instinctive pride
she resigned herself to suicide.
Senseless rage and love’s disgrace
have brought his soul on canvas.
Sneering like a narcissist
and cursing those who stalk.
His paranoia and no hiding place
has sent him to oblivion
and his nerves were nearly shot.
Consumed by his beauty
his diversions were all in vain.
A troubled soul in any case
has stumbled through the mist.
Looking for consolation
On this he does insist
Screaming at the moon
as his body he embraced.
The painter was a fiction
that he purposely erased.
For his sacred duty
his spirit was forever bought.
The painting held him to his station
weeping for another twist.
Lord Henry’s tart opinion
has found his conscious soon.
Wondering is this elation
a deceit to lose the race.
In the old dominion
lies a bitter truth.
Being a heartless creation
will prearrange your doom.