How many of the Devil's Marking Needs to fit your ear To hear My verse? Just scrawling As my hands reach to dip the quill Into a well full of blackness. I pain myself As a muse to your naked self. Your glimpses To my might. Our fairytale, This horrid fright. There is love atop the ocean Of the gleam, in your eyes. Peel back your beauty From where you hold your ashes, Before you are dead. Raging waves Become the sounds of your eyes, When thunder escapes from your open mouth, Your released sighs. I am where you find Yourself to matter, Beneath the call of distant thunder. Wrap yourself around The Hell I've envisioned, A Devil's cradle is where you find a doll.
Modern Romanticism 
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