you cashed my coin at gates of thrill,
then vanished for a cheaper crown of noise.
a flesh-born phantom draped in lies,
your alibis became your only voice.
you stitched the blame in threads you spun,
hung silence round my neck like it was mine.
i watched your ink bleed hours away,
yet loyalty was nowhere in the lines.
twice you came with smoke in hand,
twice you dressed deceit in borrowed kin.
a phantom promise, hollow bed,
your words were ashes before it could begin.
now i wear your name as frost,
a relic carved in glass and spite.
not ablaze, not zeal, not even bane —
just glacier that cuts when touched by light.
and when darkness is still and sharp,
i hear your echoes, thin and faint.
a spectre clawing at my gates,
forever chained to your complaint.