How her black wings,
And harsh whispers sweep over my soul,
Widening the hole in my chest and playing with my heart.
Ravaging my emotions until nothing feels real.
Her warm hands, soft and delicate yet so calculating in their mission,
Striking my tear stained cheek into a reality I am unwilling to go.
Forcing this pain to the surface,
This agony of existance,
This half-way life..
I must break free from her hold,
For her wings hold no feathery comfort,
Just sharp, bold needles of truth,
Pricking at my conscience day after day.
Her fleash so milky white,
Pure...
Yet tainted,
With the stain of a thousand consumed souls.
Hide yourself from the dark one,
For she is all you desire and more,
But her designs for you are far from this truth,
Wickedness is her trade of choice,
And she will hunt you down,
Enjoying the chase,
And drink from your spirit til she's had her fill,
For her thirst is what drives her,
And your achin' soul is what quenches that thirst!
Sugar x
