Without the bounds of plans or schemes,

Within the heart of fever dreams,

Passed icy mountains and glacial streams,

Come the sounds of a youth's victimized screams...

I am the witness to this violent choir,

The captive restrained by this man's desire,

I am the dreamer that his dreams inspire,

To describe the vision of his poetic soul fire...

He is the dream made of flesh and of bone,

Surrounded by others but forever alone,

With androgynous beauty that could turn you to stone,

His is a story untold and unknown...

But in my dream remembered there is another soul there,

A beast of dark longings that feeds on despair,

A savage fanged demon with raven black hair,

And an animal thirst beyond earthly compare.

The monster approaches him...The man with no name,

But he doesn't fear death...He knows who's to blame,

He allows the horror to feed off his shame,

In a vampire kiss that ignites passion's flame.

The man child weeps as the monster reacts,

The blood flows hot; like red candle wax,

The vacant eyed youth; he begins to relax,

As the monster berates him and his heart attacks.

The boy creature roars like a lioness scorned,

Triumphantly failing; alone and forlorned,

Alive he's not loved; deceased he's not mourned,

He's crowned by pain; by his tears adorned.

But here lies the paradox; the man with no name,

Monster and Victim; one and the same,

When the phoenix arose this is what it became,

An angel of lust...The purity of pain.

The man and the monster are once again healed,

As they become whole the truth is revealed,

He knows of my presence...My desire concealed,

And we both know the power of the emotions we wield.

Together we walk as night turns to day,

Soon we will wake and we know we can't stay,

I look in his eyes with the words I can't say,

But who in the hell needs words anyway?

I live for the moment as I pull him to me,

He kisses my mouth as I set myself free,

Free of desire for Love that won't be,

I want his Love to be the last thing I see...

I awake in my room...Alive and alone,

Missing the warmth of the dream man unknown,

But someday I'll meet him and call him by name,

And then thigs will never again be the same...

© FEBRUARY 1995 By Menes

-For Bryan-