Upon midnight’s veil, the heart whispers forgotten flavors of dreams; the sweet stench of what we fear, sticky like honey dripped from the fangs of an unkind fate.
Adorned with glittering lies—it loves! Like crumbling stonework encased in ivy, beauty suffocates beneath the truth of decay.
Yet is it not alive? This grotesque charm, over the dented echoes of our laughter; a nasty reminder that pleasure often entwines with ruthless honesty.
Chasing shadows through a misty allure; love, not shining but pulsating like a dying star, is profound agony wrapped in satin sheets.
A dance of chaos, upon this dust-laden ground, twirling amidst fragments of buried hopes.
Take a step, dear wanderer—