He stands before me,
handsome in his gaze of
cold steel.
I see no expression, beyond
a smile so uncaring and cruel;
almost angelic in its
cold blue and blazing red
that flicker through the dust motes
of my form.
His skinless hands
this imperfect gentleman now
reaches out to
beckoning grasp;
the time is now to fall and
see all my cruelty.
He stands before me,
I see no expression, beyond
cold blue and blazing red;
his skinless hands
beckoning grasp.