Dependence is the Devils Nightgown

The satin sheets are set out,
sewn with human tears,
draperies and strung heavy,
struck with human fear.
Oh to be mortal,
of mice and men and glee,
to understand the evil lurkings
of immortality.
The blessed blood is churning,
into pots of vicious rage,
making the sweetest of the love
taste savage of bitter hate.
Clinging to the bedposts
are rails of human heart,
shoved up against the staples
of the isolation art.
So come my beasts and minions,
to set the work aglow,
with mighty passion engulfed
by the hate we've come to know.
Let people run in panic,
scream for those held dear,
because caring has gone to the dogs,
just as everyone has feared.