Temptation at its FinestA Poem by Tatiana Lexia
May the horrid little devil
be unmade upon your shoulder. And sing whispers in your ear with more than merry care. Injured pride be damned until my bones grow cold. Because I'll die not in your arms; my soul cannot be sold.
© 2013 Tatiana Lexia |
StatsAuthorTatiana LexiaAKAboutI have no specific writing style; poetry, fiction, and non-fiction are all my preferred ways of the written word. more..Writing
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