Wrapped in flesh, ghosts on her breath.

She dreamt the nights away,

breaking out into a cold sweat...

He's not a god, he's not a man.

He's a devil, with a lifetime of plans.

Past the square of denial,

his phantom heart put her

thoughts on trial.

Writing up his lonely stares again.

He took her in, to steal her hand.

Just like a boy, just like a ploy.

His goals in tact;

he's aimed to destroy.

Crying symptoms of a

shadow on display.

He's not a god, he's not a man;

he plays with souls in the

midst of decay...

-HMG