A muse to darkness, candle that frays,
the bud of the rose plant
sullies the brave.

A kiss under veil, decorum deceit,
the seed has been planted
and curdles beneath.

Like vines they entangle
the voice of the saint
thy soul they shall strangle
and crush, a
restraint,
chokes
the wind
of

breath comes back for a moment,
the wind howls wild for it has been defiled,
the fiend persists with ashen words
but howls protect from unholy verse.

Your wildest dream, hearts desire.
these things you've seen inside my fire.

You walked away and yet
she stands before you
her words still trickle in,
and then they floor you.

I question with wrath -
My friend, where's my fiend?
"Buried alive" he said walking by the path.
Rushed I pulled by the collar,
"Where's my fiend?!" I was ready with a roller.
"Why do you care?" he asked with no fear.
She was there when none stayed, she's my dear.
"A literal murderer, your dear?" he laughed.
"Answer my friend, where's my fiend?" I glared.