She sat in front of the mirror
and started to braid her hair...
Blood red is the shadow round your eyes
as you look out on dying skies...
.
In between elastic ticks...
Every morning,
just before dawn...
She is mysterious,
an air of intrigue surrounding her...
Our evening walks on haunted trails
Where lies a ghostly mystery...
Near the woodland marsh,
desperate pleas gargle...
Upon a walk one moonlit night,
I saw a lady all draped in white...
Thy stench dost wrench the ardour from my soul
and make my blood more cold than icy snow...
Colored crayons
scribbled messages...
I have a desire to escape
just for a short while...
Twisted words writhe
like a sack full...