This is a part of a story
The Aristocrat I
Look inside the opulent halls
The lord of prideful stance stands tall,
With haughty gaze and sneer of scorn,
Our young Aristocrat, of noble born.
His coffers overflowing, glittering and gold,
A life of luxury, in splendour bold,
Yet in his heart, a wickedness grows,
In lustful desires, his colours show.
Women flock to him, like moths to flame,
Captivated by his charm, his name,
Yet in his grasp, they find no grace,
Just playthings that he randily takes.
He curses the poor, with disdain and spite
Their suffering and plight, his wanton delight,
For in his world, the weak must fall,
As he, the master, reigns over all.
But beneath the facade of wealth and power,
Lies a soul consumed, in passion's devour,
For in his heart, a void does dwell,
A hollow shell, a living hell.
The Aristocrat
II
A damsel fair, her poise refined,
With raven tress, her beauty shined.
Her eyes twinkle, like starry skies,
The Aristocrat cried, “The perfect prize!”
Her smile, all that’s best of dark and bright,
A seductive charm, in her aspect that excites,
With every step, she drew him near,
“A vision,” he praised, “how pure, how dear!”
Her looming figure, her gossamer gown,
A wondrous sight, too tempting for this town.
With salacious songs, she lured him in,
A chess of desire, about to begin.
In haste he wed her, in grand affair,
Yet in her eyes, a secret she did bear.
Hide outside her window and spy therein,
A green-faced ghoul with painted skin.
The Aristocrat
III
O, fair creature, once so beguiling,
In painted skin, my heart for you pining,
Yet now I know the gore and the gloom,
In this haunted room, my fate is doomed.
With every kiss, a soul does drain,
My life force wanes, writhing in pain,
Yet still, I'm bound, by your spell,
A prisoner in this fleshy hell.
O, demoness, my heart’s full of fright,
In eternal days, in endless nights.
Please heed my pleas, as I grow weak,
Your reign of terror, I cannot break.
For in my folly, I failed to see,
Pain is pleasure, suffering her glee.
And now, as I lie, in towering dread,
You yank out my heart, and leave me dead.