As the breeze chased her through the night and the lights above her cried,
she felt remorse
For past experiences, secrets, the person that she had become
She was a survivor, rotting from the inside out morally corrupted by the very elements that nurtured her.
Lust turned to love
and love turned to hate
Their hearts were intertwined by a women called faith
On the surface echoes of kisses lured
underneath a disease which had no cure
Like two lighthouses lost at sea
they were guided by darkness confusion not able to see
that
Perhaps they met at the wrong time place or century
He was her counter part a she version of he
caught in a trap disguised as the weeping willow tree
A mother hen who watched their every move interfered at every chance
Reminding them of her presence with a simple touch or just a glance
She had a choice to make a fight against her heart
a dance with destiny that would tear her apart
But the evil was within
buried inside her soul
He wore a mask of hope
and was a jack of all trades,
a musician by night
and a con artist by day
But like a fruit of passion
you have to to look past her exterior to understand,
she was delicacy in the making
a gift from gods hand.
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