She sat in front of the mirror
and started to braid her hair...
Blood red is the shadow round your eyes
as you look out on dying skies...
.
In between elastic ticks...
Every morning,
just before dawn...
She is mysterious,
an air of intrigue surrounding her...
Our evening walks on haunted trails
Where lies a ghostly mystery...
Near the woodland marsh,
desperate pleas gargle...
Upon a walk one moonlit night,
I saw a lady all draped in white...
Thy stench dost wrench the ardour from my soul
and make my blood more cold than icy snow...
Colored crayons
scribbled messages...
Twisted words writhe
like a sack full...
Cajoling you with all my might
to wake amidst the firelight...