Rated for Mature(17+)
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Scorpio

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I rise from ashes of taboo and sting,
a coiled whisper beneath everything—
my silence cuts, but my silence heals,
a blade that knows how Death feels.

I burn with secrets I never share,
smolder beneath a scorpion stare;
each line I pen, a venomous kiss,
a curse, a prayer, then a fatal bliss.

Beneath my skin, obsidian night—
seeking what hides from superficial sight.
What others do fear, I long to then know:
their wound, your loss, my undertow.

In shadow’s fold I make my lair,
a sentinel of all laid bare.
For I am passion forged by pain,
Scorpio soul within ink and flame.

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