Her eye is dark and lurks with hot
streaks of red, that cut my heart
like stabbing knives into my wounds.
I long to kiss her, yet she has
left me yearning for the past
but not her cool and bruising hand.
She swings her claws, her talons red
with blood that sings sharp notes of death.
Upon her throne, a lonesome girl
that lost belief of the return
of the girl that loved the world;
her throat and mind two separate souls
show her: a wavering glimpse of life
but will she find her way in time?
She sees a way; a paved escape
through the mud and slag within
that bites and scrapes the surface with
gentle kisses of deathly fire.