The Fraility that is Known

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The madness was beautiful, like a woman on the plains;

she is my weakness, she is my bane-

she is the four-leaf clover to find;

and just like a soul, her luck shall never be mine;

I am the shadow, and she is the light-

eyes mirror a reflection, eyes mirror a soul;

she is the heart in where my chest is the hole-

she will lose herself in my maze, as it is here that she will be lost, for all her days-

For she is like a barrier, my wickedness can’t consume;

my blackened talons tap the glass that issues my doom-

her smile against my fangs, her warmth amongst the cold;

and just like a soul, she shall never be mine own-

Copyrightcopyright March 24, 2014

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