This is the piece I wrote in reaction to my vision of the Lady In Red...
That God forsaken woman dances a feverish quick step through my dreams, pathing her own way down into hell. Each step she takes drags this cobwebbed and moth eaten veil a little further over my sunken face. My face that was once filled with the innocent, trembling joy and trepidation of a young bride. It is her doing, it is all her doing. That disenchated temptress, rotten, red lips and white, shining teeth cutting through a rotten, red apple. Not hers to have. How dare he do this to me, I gave him my all, every inch, every part. He discarded me, he chose her. She was his decision, she ripped him away.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment