Something that sprang up when I was just scribbling things down
My touch is that of rust
My breath is that of age
With every day that passes
I welcome my decay
My lips still taste of poison
My love cuts like a knife
Come too close and let me near
I’ll disengage your life
Time is not my master
I bend it to my will
Gaze into these haunted eyes
If you seek a look that kills
My bones have grown far weary
And how the years have flown
Never once to stop and rest
Nowhere can I call home
But like a spider to a fly
Dancing in my web
Ere I find I’m drawn to life
Where there’s no room for the dead
So come and let me taste you
Though your skin grows cold and pale
With my ministration
Your mourners they will wail
My passion is a prison
And from it comes the grave
If you come alone with me
Your life will not be saved
My touch is that of rust
My breath is that of age
With every day that passes
I welcome my decay
My lips still taste of poison
My love cuts like a knife
Come too close and let me near
I’ll disengage your life
Time is not my master
I bend it to my will
Gaze into these haunted eyes
If you seek a look that kills
My bones have grown far weary
And how the years have flown
Never once to stop and rest
Nowhere can I call home
But like a spider to a fly
Dancing in my web
Ere I find I’m drawn to life
Where there’s no room for the dead
So come and let me taste you
Though your skin grows cold and pale
With my ministration
Your mourners they will wail
My passion is a prison
And from it comes the grave
If you come alone with me
Your life will not be saved
Category Poetry / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 12.7 kB
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