There’s a beautiful struggle in a wicked love,
For a rebellious faith is a faithful heartache.

Hot ice, cold fire, death in sex.
You’re such a tasty venom.

Dying alive in your malicious kiss,
Your sweet blood is forever falling.

A wicked touch in such a deceptive friendship,
Such devious kindness

Within every one of your evil longings
I find such demonic virtues.

Yet within the shallow depth of your prison of freedom,
I’m shattered dreams.

A loving hate can be an aching pardon.
Your death is such a romance.

5-3-1994 Tuesday
Written by Gail Brookshire
PS. This was written as a strong play on oxymorons to emphasize a strong struggle going on inside of life seeming to be nothing but a lot of things that just don’t make sense and simply should not be! The title itself are two words that just don’t belong together. I am so grateful that God’s love makes life make sense.