Whisper to me softly
Slowly
So I almost cannot hear
Your poisoned speech
Slewing through
And melting off my ears

As that gaze of thorns
Rests lightly like
A crown upon my head
Our 'ntwined hands
Hooked and clawed
A clammy cold and dead.

Time is even older,
Than this gnarled bone that we chew
In our twisted Grimm old story
A fairlytale for you

You cannot see the cobwebs
Woven in my tears
The slug trails on my cheeks
That prewarn of my fears

Of your dark moon eyes
Glittering at
The fresh doe in the woods
You've always liked
What you can't have
And thrown away the duds.