Forsaken in their arms, away,
Those crows, covering the sunlight,
I was to be a warrior, instead of my decay.
Abruptly all vanished out of my sight,
But him, pointing at me, with words, unspoken,
With the approach, the walls kept on enclosing.
On the knees he stood with pride,
It felt like he was the groom and I was the bride.
Seconds passed as years in silence,
A lord, I saw, in black, of a pagan beauty.
To his whispers, my soul surrendered in credence.
A look of desire got into me, which was snooty.
In a fatal seduction, I've waited for the demon's touch,
Sweet and painful, we couldn't stop its magic.
He got away from me to burn, it was the kiss.
Don't know he's done it for love, salvation or bliss.
Ottava rima is a form of verse stanza consisting of eight lines rhyming abababcc, usually employed for narrative verse but sometimes used in lyric poems.