Unity candle, incinerated with passion,
ultimately smothered by sin.
Vengeance of an unyielding tempest,
never to forgive again.
It no longer beats to the rhythm
that they, themselves, once shared.
Bleeding heart into the floor,
weaving through glass by the chair.
Dressed in a hat of confusion,
her heart limps across her shoulder.
Feeling the chills from her iced love,
the air around her grows colder.
Butterflies of lust abandon her stomach,
and fragile trusts wait to crumble.
Prejudice tug the strings of a puppet-heart,
leaving her broken and humbled.
Trusting no longer what it tells her to feel,
nor does she trust her mind to stay.
Spade tail of the Devil stabs the remains of her faith.
Horns of sin she arises to play.
A courageous violin-plucked soul
hides away in its memories.
Her rupturing heart deteriorates,
smothering away all dignity.
Weightless love whispers against gravity,
fighting the ache to exist.
Cupid thrusts the splinters of an old arrow,
to revive a misplaced tryst.
A melody if shards pierce her lungs,
rendering her breathless and confused.
Hypnotized by the spiraling affections,
fickle promises and bemused.
She arose from the grave passion,
uniting with her tortured soul.
Tears of blood stain her cheeks
as she concludes…
to die is to live and to love as a whole.