There she is.

There she is,
perfect in all her damage,
eyes as cold as cemeteries,
vengeance on her lips.

In the mist behind your eyelid,
she's that destroying factor,
the one that keeps you restless,
till you're near apocalypse.
And yet, you long to touch her,
both to strangle and to kiss,
like a hurricane inside you,
she always leaves a mess.

She's there, inside your nightmares,
the passion of the past,
she's there, in all unspoken,
your first word and your last.
But you can never reach her,
and you may never will,
until your hand is holding hers,
the images stand still.

So..
There she is,
With skin like perfect marble,
hair as dark as hatred,
her lips the sweetest sin.
She's the war inside your tired heart,
the Queen of devastation,
she's the bullet when you're
playing Russian roulette,
And you may never win.

There she is...
Your sanity, insanity, purity, impurity.
Your one desire, your only fear,
But you may never hold her near.