Staring into a shattered mirror,
Only dead eyes; a forbidden place.
No life nor joy. No chance or hope.
No choice but to let it go.
The glint of the metal
Smiles up at me.
Gleaming with a deadly passion
He gave out his black hand;
And whispered 'Come to me.'
I took his offer;
Oh, so greedily. Oh, so rash.
He muttered 'Close your eyes-'
'And count to three.'
One.
His hand felt hot with anticipation.
My breathing; ragged; sharp.
Two.
The cool of His lips skim my throat
He whispered sweetly 'Its time to go.'
A fire burned as His lips gazed my skin.
The shine in the face's eyes.
Let me know, they feel more alive.
They gave me a final wink,
As His lips fell from my neck.
'Three' He grinned.
As He let go of my hand.
it really pulled me into the story... passionate... emotional... realistic and yet fantastic...
Mysterious, and intoxicating. You think I'm a good writer? In your words..'wow'. Great job.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Powerful, Cory! The beginning already grips you.