Onions peel off
Layers by layers
In a disarmingly
Bittersweet way.
It's like personas
Beguiling
Their players,
Let crusty skins
Come over
Eventually.
As ****** moths
Flickering,
Tenderly knitting
A warm deadly
Nightshade
Over the moon.
It's like everyone
Mingling,
Eagerly laying
Crosses over naughts
In a human
Para bellum.
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 3:53 AM UTC
Onions peel off
Layers by layers
In a disarmingly
Bittersweet way.
It's like personas
Beguiling
Their players,
Let crusty skins
Come over
Eventually.
As ****** moths
Flickering,
Tenderly knitting
A warm deadly
Nightshade
Over the moon.
It's like everyone
Mingling,
Eagerly laying
Crosses over naughts
In a human
Para bellum.