Venus and Mars

You are a ghost, an unwanted shadow
hunting your preys as Phoebus sets at dusk
Rolling up the bright tapestry, for it finally turns darker
with shades of aflame red, and starry lies
Lies? Did the universe lie about so many things to you,
that you became so volatile?
Did it violate its promise to you?

This is Mars;

He, the shadiest tree in the dry meadow,
bows down when a girl lays her head
upon his sturdy trunk
He opens his wooden arms,
and does a sudden breeze work its magic upon him
Time to time, she keeps hugging,
she puts more of her faith in
But he scratches her skin, tears at her dress,
pulls on her hair, stabs at her back
All the smooth intrigues and her eyes flicker
Still, she believes in him
For she perishes,
he be the best shelter

Time to meet her, Venus;

She, the cold-hearted instrument,
with the warmth that gives her solace
from the one that strums her body in a hug,
melts down. She has surrendered.
And she does not feel betrayed,
for the hands that pluck on her strings too hard,
for the thrown rocks that break her neck
As she becomes a graceful piano,
she is still played, and praised
Until she is lulled to unconsciousness
Her keys are pressed way too harsh, enjoying oblivion,
dreams, falsettos, that satisfy her innocence
Then the light from those hands does desert her body,
she be caressed softly to her death, in hurtful melodies

Oh,
I should be awoken, I am awake

A soul melts as she inhales the sweet, intoxicating scent
coming from where she buries her mind in
And should his heartbeat be so deafening to her logic
His cold lips, darkening from cigars
Two moon crests upon them tighten,
with every drop of blood
that flees its way through his veins
She does not feel neither woe, nor butterflies
Bloody crows are crashing into one another in her belly
Soon he embraces her, the red diamond under her nose
Her frame is for his world to get lost
He finds his way, since she does get lost
She falls way too deep into his touch,
yet she never really lands
Does he really care?
His sleek intrigues; he begone, he be long gone
And her?
So she be alive in her sweetest confusion,
of his abrupt evanescence.

Oh, the universe
Must Venus be in the shadow of Mars so that she can shine?