Devil in a midnight mass
Tinted slivered glass.
Is drips of winter... criminal invention
Wither fast...
You enter and its slipping ******
In quicker sand...
With in her plan...
She slips with in her hands...
The sinner and the ******* whiskey flask...
That lingers drinking liquor fast....
combustion consumption..
In addictions past...
To fix this man within her grasp...
She slips her chance
To safely pass with little plan
Into devils land... and crafts a little time lapsed bitter antidote into his glass.... and sets him into drifters land...
To sift the winters drifted Christmas lamb into a sober dinner
With her  better man... and stray herself to wake
Like mary had a little lamb...
A little hand... an empty flask
And Christmas winter plans....