If your hand could reach inside my heart, what would do you with it?

Mesmerizing lips stained a beautiful,

Yet disturbing shade of red.

Tasting delectably sweet,

It made it hard to notice,

The thieving hand digging deep inside my chest.

You felt me inbetween your fingers,

Savoring every skipping beat,

Eyes gleaming as you squeezed,

My throbbing heart tight within your fist,

Just beyond my reach.

I had not yet known,

That I was only one,

Of the many who you ruthlessly robbed.

You collected our trails of tears,

Running your fingers through our hair,

While you spun us into

The silky fine hairs,

Of the deceitful web you transpired.

King of Hearts,

Always proud and hiding in his tower,

One would think your belly was full,

But you still hunted for more hearts to maim and devour.

Never satiating your thirst,

Or your gluttonous desire.

Broken hearts are what built your tall and Beautiful tower,

Yet you proudly sit,

On the very tip,

Of the hearts you broke prior.

So merely naive,

Your puppets on a delicate string,

Who you dangled,

As you spun and you wove,

Until we were deep in your trap.

Never imagined we’d eventually be caught,

In a meticulously woven web.

Was your original intent to kill us all dead?