You are much inclined
To this water
So divine
Its petals
Drop behind
From your
Teal-gray vine
As horror
Corrupts the mind
Her scent
Is like pine
With a hint
Of green lime
The sun
She must find
Since her heart
Is now bind
You can hear
Faint whines
And her teeth
She grinds
So the woman
Then Sighs
Clocks tick
Out of time
And she leaps
With stride
Whispers
" Forever mine."
