Long arm reaching from the mist
Pale & frail with a gentle hand
Holding out but one daisy
Claspped between two familiar fingers
"Petite, precarious, and lovely"
I find words not truer nor as haunting
The sky bares it's blight
As the fading petals catch the blood
Raining down in but one drop
In one moment.
Catching every bit till the once spring flower...
Takes to autumn
And with every new grown thorn
There is but one devil
To run and hide
And watch of our embraces
To laugh with malice & malcontent
A faceless figure
To mask our smiles
Bury our eyes
Cover us in sheets
Trapped like sheep
Captured in sleep
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