Walk away now.
Turn back before you have gone to far.
To good for black widowed ways.
More than her preying mantis love.
She knows the monster that she is,
This is why she tells you to run.
Her greatest creation,
The masks for which she has spun.
Intricately woven threads of silky lies
intwined with bits of brokenness.
A warm summer breeze to mask the inferno within.
A sweet delicate smile to mask the bleeding tongue.
A flutter of her eyes to mask the cold dead stillness.
Run.
She gives you fair warning,
Run.
This is not what she wants for you
But she can not help who she is.
She would rather you in the arms of another lover
Then to remain with her where she will eat you alive.
Her darkness is contagious.
Her beauty only a facade from afar.
Get to close she will cut you
and allow the Black Death to seep in.
She doesn't want this, she doesn't
But she is to weak to stop
She is only strong enough to warn you
But you must chose to walk.
Turn around.
Run.
She cannot feel though she tries
Forget this girl and move on.
You are to good for her.
Need I tell it to your face?
You are to good for me.
(And he did)