Frail


A soft silver mist
He whispers through the quiet cracks
A love so unknown, turning into clenched fists
Repetitive flows, ascending in a pack
Peeking between the crevice, his palms
Reaches her, at a high speed, without consent
If she wails, she dies. Be overly calm
Every ounce of maneuver, was meant
Nadir of her pending perception, mishap
Feeling far from euphoric, shall she cherish?
No, he lingers the desire of love, she must adapt
It descends, ascends, descends again in the forbidden place
Sometimes, even, he a deceiver wants warmth
Yes, say “I love you.” my little victim, thenceforth

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