Threads bare
A seamstress at wits end
The paradigm of paradise will never cease to feign sense
A thrall to ecstasy and shattered dreams
The lovechild depleted
Cold souls and broken homes could never hope to feed it
Faith spent the rest of her days in the arms of hatred
And she stays spent
The vagrant found hearth in the hollow of her heart
His collapse was seen in the lakes and the stars
The wrinkles in heaven have played their part
Rewarded with the induction of necrosis and dark arts