Every wall, every facet
Every sign of neglect
Stands magnified, picturesque

Vines grow thick
Twiglike at every bisect
Roots reach for the ceiling
With brave beauty, grotesque

A sea of leaves crowd the floor
Weathered and worn
Spattered patterns of gore

The roots climb up
Palms stretched out,
Beckoning, silent
With a deafening shout

Enters, a woman, with beauty
With grace, sits upon her throne
Somehow afraid

The vines Entwine
The wrists, the face
How long, they’ve been waiting
To give her a taste