I am writing this before my slumber
Takes the thoughts and turns them into a reality
In another world. As just another dance number
In a play with many acts:
You can tell she's the devil
Because her hair matches the head of Hades.
Sort of intimidating but friendly
Enough to look past the devilish grin.
The sadistic touch that leaves you clutching
Your chest to slow down the heart and get in more air.
The devilish looks that shoot fire through a stare.
The beautiful eyes the color of fresh sepals,
Matching the eyes of hellish creatures,
Like cats with the smooth, elegant, creepy features
With the creeping touch like soft rats
Racing around your body as if they're on a track
To a place to where you're broken down,
Just to break you down more.
Have you ever see Prada
Personified better than a scarlet sorceress
Casting a spell onto the innocent minds of mankind?
An outfit she wears too well,
When see embarks from the depths of hell.
She's as deep as she is shallow,
She'll play you off as if she's callow
Until you wallow and melt into the cauldron
Along with her heart, your aspirations, and her pseudo limitations.
She's an elegant vampiress,
When she displays her best
Because she can suck the life out of me,
And turn me into whatever she wants me to be.
Eyes become too relaxed when they fixate
Upon the strands of crimson hair flowing down her breastplate.
It's hard to calculate the right way
To fix this odd equation,
Where her plus me
Is different in other aspects
To me plus her.
Call it absurd,
Call it the death of all reason,
But you can't judge me until you have see it.
She's definitely a fallen archangel,
With her hair tangling like a Boa,
Around me constricting the flow of
Air and common sense to my head,
Causing the pituitary gland to think that
My love for her is actually lust.
When in reality it's not that.
