The fires of passion, they frighten me.
Beautifully blinding and I can’t see.
Forever a monster, I will be.
Your locked heart’s mangled key.

I was supposed to be the Adam to your Eve,
a creation of his labours;
a heart designed to be yours,
beating only in your favours.
Instead I am a vile insect,
a distant nightmare of hers.

But still this fire burns bright,
becoming my borrowed sense of fright.
Feelings bursting at first sight.
Burning away the safety of night.
And now I am exposed, under your light,
I am seen.

Not quite a man,
just a gruesome fiend,
who off of blood It was weaned.
A demon I have seemed,
in every thought I’ve dreamed.

Yet here you are,
without my mask, you’ve not screamed.
Perhaps at least,
with all your beauty I’m not this beast.
Even the Devil’s heart’s not ceased.
A fire in my soul that is ready to be released.