The Grip

            Doth shall not know that the hearts of a midnight breeze can not be shattered unto by those of the day

 

            A beauty unknown, not to be reckoned, with beckons for the touch of another again, for only that can quench her, that only can feed a gnawing want in the eyes of this unsanctionable love

 

            Just to burden that of a greater need, only to be buried below an exquisite sight of grace to be wondered

 

           Night shall leave again and you will be broken, releasing the grip that she once had on you, a grip that only temporarily subsides, leaving you bound to its will forever.