you broke me in the most delicate way,
that even pain felt beautiful.

The wind whispers in soft, lilting echoes;
that enchant and linger the presence of idle stars and graceful jasmines;
on a musky summer midnight

Thunderstorms wrench
and howl to the sound of your voice.

Waves of darkness and death,
that rush (awake)
and take (away) your breath

A ray of bliss thus becomes
a miss of broken dreams
and delicate pearls
scattered across
the purple skies
that glistens
and smiles

In fact, it was about you. It always is; it always was, always will be.

As sleepless thoughts savage,
the devil whispers into my ears,
softly triggering,
resonating melancholy,
the moan of a creature known to be depraved
and sinister,
soon becomes the lilt of an angel
who was once unfortunate
and misunderstood.
he calls me religiously and persistently,
captivating and lurring me,
to a side that has a melody; unknowingly *unholy.