My feeling’s created a vortex – They shall bring her towards; Her’s deflect my circular storm. The wind shoots towards immensely.
Knocking me down – She comes forward wearing an (unknown) mask, wielding a freshly sharpened knife – The days have passed, the blade remained, the mask knew many roles, the knife has taken many foes – The darkness is overpowering
The weaponry, becomes dull as she progresses her stabs locating my heart – the vortex lessens in size.
She smiles, the beauty of her smile, catches me off guard – my feeling’s ‘sharpen’ – They take ahold – strengthen…. ascend – The vortex grow’s dangerously large;
The powerful air becomes unstable, It fluctuates – tilts rapidly, back-and-forth – bringing forth the other, consuming her; the blade – bounced off my heavily guarded heart, the blade bent…. I wake up, and realize i’ve been walking once more in my sleep – Feeling’s still needing release, to pick her up, and wrap my arms around.
My heart was wrapped within tin foil and was ever expanding, and heating with ease…. now it isn’t captive once more, it’s freshly escaped and on it’s own… the warmth is leaving, the beauty within is disappearing. It’s free to be where it wants, with who it wants… but still, it thinks of her, and the greatness it once felt under her authority. It wanders the land, with selflessness and warmth… but the warmth cannot be returned, can’t be restrained for long. i had another temptress, another great girl, that only wanted what she could take, rather than me. I’m broken and guarded once more. I wanted her within this life, she wanted temporary satisfaction and currencies to better her life… while bringing my being down quite drastically, while lifting the ego. I feel used and taken for granted once more. around my heart are troops stationed within a watch-tower surrounding the premise with strength and hostility…. never letting another around once more…. my heart beats a sweet song of all that it’s encountered… let in, and taken apart. Set on fire, and then stomped on… because my heart is a game to most, another treasure discarded in the sand, never to be held for the right reasons again.