Mold me.

Make me.

Change me.

Shape me.

As a humble spark is reborn into a blazing fire,

temper me into an object of immortality

Mold me as white as the blinding sun

Make me as red as the sovereign roses nestled between the bleakest beds

Change me into a warrior; a overcomer of death

And shape me into a beautiful marionette

I give you consent, I offer my trust

At first, kisses turned into bites

and your touches into blisters

The innocent blinks of your eyes as black as pure endless night skies

into complete denial with the eternal end of twilight

You left me alone to starve; to scar

Now I am a mass of dull whites, rusted reds, and hollow eyes

Forever I wait for the crickets to chirp, to signal the arrival of a violet sky,

but the familiar song is never played

Unable to undo your spell,

I am shelved among all the other broken dolls on a throne made of abandoned dust and regrets


3 thoughts on “Fallen

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