A fortunate fella, walks into a cellar,
and there hears a song, from a lowly bank teller.
She hands him the cash, he bestows her his soul,
unlike his spirit, the money wouldn't fold.
Eyes are made, unbeknownst to him,
the same as to all, like the blame that was hidden.
Let us just say, our boy was now smitten,
and her looking faint, somehow only he would fall.
The dance, like a horse ridden,
tame but unsolved.
The ball, everyone attended,
but only he seemed attentive.
Magic equipped them with calls,
lowlights befell neath the stars.
Highlighted pupils, of flames
and pasts absolved.
The story was just beginning,
but the end already solved.
Driving far, just for more time to listen,
out of gas, but no smile missing.
Fading fast, because three years pales to infinity,
a beautiful ocean gave way to commotion.
A corrupted affinity, a mirror that could bleed,
if it could tell the story, maybe he could breathe.
She spells like annotation,
never spills her invisible ink.
He holds all her knives,
along with her mittens.
One carelessly loves, the other
stops to think.
A heart made with questions,
a soul like a coat.
Betrothed and invested,
in the bank of her throat.
A person that is tested,
a tester who cannot know.
A safe, and a man that will trust it,
a teller that won't tell, and
an audience that already knows.