Acrostic But 4

Bull’s eye? Beholder’s eye? A lot of bull?
Unraveling the knotty ball of meanings,
The mind is restless, unforgiving, full…
Full of perversions and forbidden leanings.
Oxymoronic flood of empty words
Reduces life to deaf and dumb derision.
Soft stammer of ineptly choked chords
Obliterates your hearing and vision,
Meandering through dusty, ghastly maze
Engrossed in more than pure adulation.
Perchance, the image of Dolores Haze*
Induces some pupillary dilation…
Synoptics should in fact begin with “sin”, 
Synonymous with sinful sort of peeping:
The ever-watchful animal within
Has all but taken over, softly creeping,
Evasive serpent, to a higher plane,
Where innocence is fuel to its fire,
Oblivious of other dragons slain,
Raising its head in covetous desire.
Lubricity implies an inner rage,
Delectably delinquent predilection:
It forages afar for greener age,
Stalks easy prey to add to its collection.
Forlorn, forsaken, fearful, and faint,
Untidy little lamb is led to slaughter:
Lest lowly lecher bear the bloody taint
Let the incestuous sheets be their blotter...
Orwellian nightmare brings delight
For bogeymen and other bigger brothers,
Stressed out to beyond the ‘fight or flight’,
How lucky they can still have their druthers.
If there is a will, there is a way:
True color, uncompressed, XVGA.

*Nabokov's Lolita