The pack keeps sneering,
smug and well-fed,
over repasts of rotten carcasses,
knowing all the ways of vultures,
attuned to maps where corpses lie,
their complacence unbeatable,
skills of stealth invincible;
The canine prowls, abiding time
enduring, quelling hunger and ire,
its hungry growl gurgles within

Juxtaposed

Akin to a cigarette lighter, 
Romance lights up in a jiffy;  
Anytime you want, to give you some high, 
going out as soon as you choose. 

Good old Love is the country stove 
that cooks your food and keeps you warm;
Never going out beneath the embers
which to stoke, you must give your all!

Redemption

My form isn't flawless,
nor without a blemish;
but no longer shall I hide, 
behind veils of ugly pride.

My wounds, they still do bleed,
certainly, no pretty sight;
but I will let them breathe,
heal the root of the blight.

My scars I'll no more cover,
nor my fears in the dark, cower;
of pain, I refuse to brood,
out in the light, I'm nude!

With your pretty paints on,
and robes you lovingly adorn,
why should you take offense?
of someone who's shunned defense?

Licking blood off your knives,
grinding them all your lives,
you forget to salve your wounds,
dancing to morbid tunes

I am every bit as sick,
but I frankly claim to be,
which is earning me your pique,
And, I know, stoning awaits me!

Juxtaposed

Akin to a cigarette lighter, 
Romance lights up in a jiffy;  
Anytime you want, to give you some high, 
going out as soon as you choose. 

Good old Love is the country stove 
that cooks your food and keeps you warm;
Never goes out beneath the embers, 
but to kindle it each time, you must give your all!