Curl up in those shadows
Walk along the black
Engulfed in its tenacity
Like church bells resonate
Hiding midst shadows,
Where light penetrates
Blossoming lil serpent
Entwines the friars fate.
The God
Embraces the illusionary lair
In hallows of dwindling faith
She walks in
within, writhing in pain.
Dead love now rotting
In the grave of promise,
She strings pearls of hate
To adorn his neck.
The pearls now throttle
Growing tentacles of poison
Leaving lines of misery on his neck
That etched he, had
In her palm at natal
She now gives it back.
Bereft of any
Token to leave behind,
She has nothing to live for
Except her own time.
No naïve chuckles
To fuss upon
Just his hollow laugh
And a few dusty cobwebs
On their betrothed snaps.
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