devoid

all caught up and nowhere to run

we move in slowly, into that empty room

through that darkened sense of hate filling your eyes

those fatal glances from a rose with thorns, in a dark room

upon the floor lay embers from a fire almost empty of substance

a hasty night to illuminate her eyes, a momentary lapse

capturing time within that very moment, the peak

suddenly, she comes to life

 

though he cannot see the beauty of what she is

blindness now taking hold of both sight and light

 

 

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