What’s to be done?

My soulmate got lost in the sun,
her sapphire eyes could not resist the allure,
all over the place, for a time,
inked with my initials, when the clock struck midnight,
raised from the dead bedroom a dull life brings,
I watched her whisper my name, like a prayer, as she came to her senses.

Before I held the universe to ransom,
life was just a thing that happened to me,
and yet, as soon as I pointed a gun at the throat of fate,
clear skies, dry eyes and surprises surrounded me.
Kismet can be one hell of a provider, when she wants to be.

Long after the night ended,
over legions of land and oceans,
violet kisses, so sweet and soul consuming lingered upon her lips,
enchanted by my impatient hands and hungry soul,
so that she’d remember to hunt for me when the sun rose.

A mad girl is a determined girl,
so set on her dreams, that she can barely sleep to see them,
holding the clouds and smoke of the city in her hands,
linking them together, until she has something to rest her head upon,
inching closer to the wonders of escaping the waking world.

Honestly, I have been mad since the day I was made,
on the road to unravelling the second I started to breath,
like the blood covered lady of Inverness,
lost, like my lover, to the pursuit of power.
I’ve been told that she likes me like that,
senseless and spirited,
to her, dangerously devoted.
Everybody backs away, but she? She runs.
Runs towards me, her arms around me, because she’s never had it so good.

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