As we sink into our velvet mood
Dionysus shifts in the corner.
He tries to spout philosophical rants
but the poison seeps in faster
and turns his words to unintelligible Greek.
My selfish prayers echo in the aftermath of chaos
as his current strengthens.
We feast with him as he admires himself in the silver.
He had a tendency to spy on himself.
We dare not speak until he has drank from the chalice.
The music overflows as anarchy spills from his lips.
He plans to take the world,
douse it in sin and unleash his demons.
Our velvet mood turns coarse.