I shall grow very old,
within a mind shelter...

Twisted mortal of an ebony sky
deathly creatures transform...

You were meant to shine
upon a morning sun of...

Colors scatter down Lansing street
like a box of crayons; drowning in a gutter...

Her words become shortened
as each day is knitted into the final...

I can't stop my pen from writing
about you, and your unstoppable...

Beautifully she flew by night
inside a covered cloud she slept...

She's a raging lunatic,
adorning mascara as deep...

Between tides of the rising sun
mixing with a monogamous moon...

A bloody cloak twas draped upon scorched shoulders
I lay barren, within a hopeless, romantic moon...

I have moments within a world of destruction
where those miniscule words are the fire...

A touch of wine,
candled flame...