Life's A Bore, So Says The Devil Poem by Luce Darwin

I love as blindly as one can.
I'm in love with a phantom,
a celestial being,
who has it's talons
hooked through my heart,
linking me with the universe,
and it's majesties.
Compared to your violence,
compared to your sickness,
compared to your bestial manner,
everyone else is a bore.
You have a depravity
which is nobility,
near purity,
like you a the king of hell,
and I often mistake it for heroism
because it is so great.
Your rational, though carnal perversions
entertain the women in me
which thrives in the dark.
This darkness knows there
will be no other being
who vexes and crushes
and wages war
the way you do.
The way I need to
live in this stale world.
You are the only warrior
in which I praise.
You are the juggernaut
which terrifies me,
and conjures the demons
to my bed to pull my hair.
Your demons whisper
that you are the zenith,
the only one worthy of a crown,
and to be without you
means death,
and to be with another
means boredom.