The Details On Liberty Street
by Michael Doyle

Mortality beats a heavy drum in perspective.
Memories of past conversations are kept respective
Of all the years that have since come and gone.
Only the night herself can say when to move on.

The sharing of souls calls for a renewed conversation.
The morbidity of vampires is its own desecration.
Still, with guarantees in place, confession may be bared,
The truth is in the confessions evil has willingly shared.

Too many errors call for truth and reconciliation.
An interview begins with intemperate negotiation.
Each side realizes there were things left unsaid,
But isn't that always the way with the undead?

Generations have passed for this prince among the undead.
Storyville holds gambling and gluttony, and more, it is said.
Mankind is often motivated and ruled by products of desire. 
There are the decrepit vices that set the world on fire.

Compassion is seen as a weakness on the streets of liberty.
Roughness is the only position strong enough for dignity
One mistake after another erodes a man's corruptible soul,
Until, at last, it is Lucifer who grabs the hand of control.

These are the pains kept in solemn preparation,
And the breakfast table knows its own narration.
Every view is heard in pointing to the confusion.
The confusion caused by the principalities of delusion.

As a man descends, he loses his way to confession.
Instead, he increases his tithe in his concession.
Some in the Church willingly look the other way.
This is a decision they'll rue one soon-enough-day.

Dirt from the dollars gained lust chased by desolation.
The demons of drink knew their own contribution.
A jazz band below played along in ragtime syncopation.
The Devil knows the strains of this sinful nation.

Shadows are often dancing along the river's edge,
Bringing evil's pleasure walked up to the ledge.
The gaze of the vampire leaves a man immobilized.
This is the weakness found in being mesmerized.

Where a man is willing to slice his brother's breastbone,
This is a place where the Devil can make his home.
The power of the vampire's gaze emasculates in its measure,
And the lesser man becomes less man than a possessed treasure.

(c) October 2, 2025  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved