I am the eventide, the darkness you seek
My eyes, the gateway to amaranthine
Your flesh, liquid reverence

With a stroke of your fingers
I will burn for days
scaring my life, A laurel I wear, proudly

I see the night in your eyes
The death of the many, the salvation of none
Unquestionably I become your wretch, your thrawl

When we embrace, pools of blood ensue
I taste the sweetness there on the landing,
smearing the temped life across my lips
Then lying in a mere bath of yearning
I invite you willingly and let go my earthly bounds