I have had my share of quantum entanglement, and it's safe to say it's not for me, I am done with feeling a heart still beating, laying half way across the sea.

Poetic injustice leaves you full, of impromptu injuries when pulling the wool, as if everlasting enemies claw at your eyes, for these prophecies weave broken dreams leaving you blind, dark as winter mornings the dagger sharply twists, you whisper paltry warnings and offer up your wrists, to morbidly seek comfort as if death can conquer pain, but all it does is transfer to those that still remain

Your apprehension hangs heavy like a pollutant in the air, depreciating greatly my ability to care, so I stammer and step to the road once more, to alleviate some tension from the one I adore, your smile has been tainted with the taste of doubt, so I step with great care when I move about, now the links on your ankle are as hard as they're sweet, and your will to be free leaves warm blood on your feet, so no longer will I struggle to keep your body chained, you have my blessing to go lover may your memories remain.

Coalesce in moonlight as the hour of the wolf passes, transcend it all at midnight her lithe body thrashes, transmuting daylight into fervent cries, and appropriating passion for the open skies, evoking the lover in hopes of knowing truth, though she's alone in a home with her dreams of youth

If my words could burn a hole, I'd aim for your heart, though if by chance you have a soul, it would be as good a place to start, so I sing my laments for the warm rain, though with this spirit in my body there is a chance, to purge all the doubts from my brain, and wake up on clear skies just to dance

Whisper little sister in strange tongues, shifting and twisting in the hot sun, mulling over and culling your own thoughts, sun rays for days but it's all for naught, you clasp tightly to the unsightly and the strange, though with great will, you may still be free from your cage

Waste your cheap whispers on hollow bones, and forget all the blisters that got you home, blacken the chimney with warm sin, by skill very nimbly conceal within, and when it's frigid in winter and snow drove, you will still be gathering splinters for your old stove