Hells Trap

Like a spider weaving its net you draw me in
listening to my words, watching my every move
your hand on my back, you guide me to your sin
the lights dimmed in an attempt to sooth.

Your fingers laced in my hair so long
your lips teasing my skin, it's burning
as the evening subsides to the nights song
what you are doing, in their graves the elders are turning.

Your eyes turn to fire, your skin turns to ash
your heart stops beating, your lips turn to poison
you try to drag me down with you and out i lash
for you are hells trap, and it is me you have chosen.