Time Is Blurred

The damned find pleasure
In fleeting moments,
Be it in the gaze of a faithful pup
Or a square of wax melting slow
They revel in the destruction
Of cities, countries, and continents,
In the flames that devour
Maidens and monsters alike.

Hawks circle and swoop
Amidst peach trees,
Their claws grasping at the
Turbulent sea below.

Time is blurred,
Drunk and drenched,
A never-ending bonfire
Melting all and everything,
Simultaneously wet and aflame.

For the damned, this is bliss
Life in the chaos,
A tantalizing intersection
Of pleasure and pain,
Of everything, all at once.