bluebeard

in the war cemetery
there lay a boy
with arms for wings
and crystal eyes
like twin blue demons.
at his side;
the dark girl
screaming at him
for the last time.
her arm is the skeletal arm
claiming from the grave
pointing accusation,
for he made me this way.
he made us this way.
she'll justify,
say that his old ways
will splinter and die.
and he will rise...
but all of us,
the brides
we burn in paradise.

Reviews

[fireblossom]

This thing burns with power. Circling, I smell blood and see the flash of irony. I know enough not to get too close to this one. Your mouth drips with truths ink.

I admire you sea lily