These Two Ladies

Good evening, Lydia here. I started to write this poem yesterday and finished it tonight, I needed to get my creative juices flowing again. I hope you enjoy it, beware it rather strange.
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I stand on the second coming,

See the split earth beneath.

A foolish man of two loves.

Two women of equal pleasant,

One no more than the other,

To choose one, a callous decision.

Oh lady of death!

Your sickly beauty and dangerous cheeks

Will grant the fires of immortally. Those black curled

Roses, and blessed thoughts that lie underneath.

What stranger wouldn’t subdue temptress?

Thou eternal requiem sings from blooded lips,

And teeth of moonlight with rays of daggers.

But can thou love silent lady, whose heart stirs not.

Under that lily skin is seedless soil, cracked and unblossomful.

I doubt that vow to me,

 Your dark eyes have tasted other souls.

I turn to this lady, with almond eyes

 And precious brow.

Dear good mistress of love,

Time is not our gift

We may age and wrinkle,

But our united body will defeat the battle of life.

There is no fear in secondness, for you are the gentle wind,

And radiant sun that brought to this embrace.

I will spend this new world, kneeling in your wonder.

Take heed in this fool, and consider to share this widened rapture.