Monday, August 22, 2011

Her Servant.

Her voice. Her voice.  Her voice. It won’t leave my mind. It flies around like a black butterfly trapped in a jar. She dances the dance of a worriless creature. Plays with fire in the corners of my mind toying around with my sanity and sense of normalcy. Making my soul flame higher and more dangerously with every sing song word she speaks. Making my senses sharp and dull at the same time. She fills me. Making the world bright and wonderful when she is near. Making it morbid and dark as she draws away. I can’t concentrate on anything but her. Her hand in mine. Her whisper in my ear. The love beaming in her eyes. I feel at peace as her blade in driven into my loving heart and her poison lips touch mine. The black wings crack and shatter into a million glittering diamonds. I close my eyes with a smile on my face. Her will be done for I am a servant to a kind word in a gentle voice. . .

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