His eyes were filled with knowledge of his doing.
His smile aged with the victory of souls;
See thievery of lone hearts
Belonging to girls like me
Had become his occupation.
Knowing fear of pursuit,
Would be non existent.

His voice strung us in a line, along
With reminders of his previous conquers;
Souless consorts, possessed by his possession
Of their heart strings.
Whilst I pondered on stumbling feet
Over the idea of pian detonating
In the barren soul holders,
Freeing us of him.

Like week old roses
That lay beside a bed
Fully aware of unrequited love.
More so he relished in psychotic things;
Complicated factors,
Like being my best friend’s
lover and I, his
Unknown consort.

Evil dwells in the prettiest forms

Light from Lita
See you soon


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