I thought of him, day after day, waiting for nights to come, with fear and great desire. Delusions, nightmares, an obsessive mind, a morbid romantic, struggling between fantasy and reality. I dreamed of love, and blood and death, tasting the copper, in my lips and hands. The beginning of this waltz, marked a lonely night. A dark room, a tale, a pair of emerald eyes.
He spoke of truths, and lies, the secrets of life, black-winged angels, demons in disguise. I felt his pain, the trouble in his heart; I thought I cared and just the same, I wanted to die. The wounded one, a man, a fiend, with the face of a child, I went to him on a fateful night. A trap, a cage, prison of death underground; days without end, cold nights and muffled cries.
...to be continued.
