I lure in the kindled spirits
hoping thou shall be uplifting
but I know better to fear it
will thou take a chance?

when thy destroys the kindled
making you no more then a husk
wishing we never mingled
thy creates the withered?

the broken husk...
crippled by thy honey covered word
leaving a sour musk

thy create the withered
But I am also the withered...