Crimson lace

In the hollow of my chest, where shadows creep, A love entwines, a blood-soaked, morbid heap, Veins of thorns twist tight, in cruel embrace, A crimson lace of longing, a bitter taste. A heart, a carcass, torn and flayed, Where passion’s ghost in silence prayed, Bones crack like whispers in the dark, As love carves deep, its savage mark. Lips like razors, soft yet sharp, A kiss that rends, a poisoned harp, Playing chords of anguish, sweet decay, In the rot of love, I slowly sway. Eyes, hollow moons, black and wide, Reflect the void where dreams have died, Yet in that emptiness, I find, A love that chains, a love that blinds. In the graveyard of my soul, love grows, A grotesque flower, morbid prose, Roots dig deep in the soil of pain, Feeding on tears, cold as rain. So let this love consume my breath, In the arms of longing, I'll find death, For in its grip, I’m but a slave, To a love that leads me to the grave.