No one likes a mystery-
we hate being left in the dark.
To not know is to suffer
night after night.
What a cruel fate
to be void of
clarity.

I love how you imagine us together
Oh how knifes are so pretty.

Forsaken shrine,
Nights align,
In a spotted chalice,
Like onyx wine.
Out rings a bell,
A raven knell,
The wicked cry,
And doleful spell--
     --Of witching's time.

A wayward soul,
On blinded stroll,
As through the dark,
They must patrol.
The traveled path,
A harsh lambast,
And so return,
The hour's bath.

Fore a shape,
A phantom escape,
Awaiting idol,
Past a molten scape.
River quelled,
Fusion's shell,
Lest a shade and shadow weld,
Beware the spell--
     --Of witching's time.

Am I in love or am I convincing myself?
I would be a fool to be either.