meeting Old Scratch at dawn,
his mark etched down her back,
his voice, vibrating in the earth, disturbing and disrupting the plants and the worms.
She was a difficult child,
daughter of lies,
lost under the lights,
an angel that never had the chance to fall,
fated to stay, stuck on the ground where she was born.
She was watched, like the sweetheart of a soap opera.
Morning star pouring over all her labours and her dramas,
ever since birth,
when he gleefully watched the girl being torn from her unconscious mother,
he loved her like she was of his rib.
Can a beast find his way into the heart of a babe?
He has fallen to many places,
but longs to land in her good graces,
not as a lover,
but a mentor,
for he spies the seeds of darkness in her soul.
Once upon a time,
the world saw her as pure,
but he knew he could count on life to let her lose her sparkle,
so he waited,
until she found prayer pretentious,
and would welcome his winged shadow on her chamber wall.