Her hands, warm
Touched the chill of my neck
I fell into her storm, as my bodies shivers wept.

Persistence in her visions
No contingency plan
Realism is a prison
Used to deafen our clan

Deserved to be queen
Yet she settled as a servent
Serpents obey, her every word
Her every movement
He wouldn't sit still
Couldn't watch her life dwindle
The image in his mind, was of her,
in his temple

Prince of destiny, next to the
King of irony
Fighting freely, in the depths,
of distant harmony
Harmingly charming three, snakes emerged from ripples
That spread throughout the water pond
The spirits of the ritual

She raised a blade so elequently said, "show me your heart."
As I did, undisturbingly, she drove it through that body part
I bled out, as her voice started,
Whispering in my ear
Fading into darkness, as if it were a dream
I heard
"I will never be your queen.."

Now like a ghost, at most, no alibi
My feelings shine though, always without a try
I was the Prince, I was the King of miss distress
Until the end,
Now I am
Translucent.