paintings beside the mona lisa

there remains undeniable beauty in
the hunt, the chase, the slaughter
to become the greatest.
it forever replinshes as the sole clincher
in the rise and fall of civilizations,
like the tidings of The Drake Passage.

tis’ a game of unrefined, raw power,
lingering in your mouth— the sultry taste of burned sulfur,
the remnants of lead, combined with
the luscious blood of crimson cherries,
tis’ a game of unchecked, unhinged power.
it pounds like desire in the plumpness
of flesh, in the palpitations of the heart,
the crave of the unknown,
the want of the invariable.

the play, it changes minds, it changes emotions.
it latches onto to what is within,
only to mould it carefree, anew, unrecognizable.
once a foe, now seeking assylum in your arms;
once a friend, now only to be callously disregarded
like the rusted piece of armour no longer
needed amidst the field of battle.

there does indeed, remain indisputable beauty,
in the shameless hound of greatness,
for when in doubt always ask yourself—
in solitude, in company,
in vain, in Ibiza—
Does anyone remember the names of
the paintings beside the Mona Lisa?