Love and the Skull

Love sits

on Humanity's skull.

From this throne

the profane one laughs,

insolently and gaily blows

round bubbles that soar

as if to worlds hidden

in the ether.

The frail, luminous globe

leaps ahead,

breaks, and spits out its spindly soul

like a golden dream.

With each bubble, I hear the skull

prey and whine,

"When will this fierce, ridiculous

game end?

Killer monster, your cruel mouth

is scattering my brain,

my blood and my flesh

in the air!"