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
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
the purple skies
In fact, it was about you. It always is; it always was, always will be.
I told you that it wasn't about you. I lied, it was about you; it always was, it always will be.
As sleepless thoughts savage,
the devil whispers into my ears,
the moan of a creature known to be depraved
soon becomes the lilt of an angel
who was once unfortunate
he calls me religiously and persistently,
captivating and lurring me,
to a side that has a melody; unknowingly *unholy.