A gentle shadow of filet, now drifts across the quiet room,
where candle-flicker motifs casting shape into the dark.
A cold, persistent warmth begins to rise above the hidden floor…an innocent breath, a frozen pulse, behind a locked and silent crow.
Bone-white patterns trace the skin. while restless secrets of the heart awaken from a shallow grave, to wrap the soul in shroud-like shade…A phantom touch, a breathless pause, where time is slow and still; midnight bleeds its silent verse, across the fading window sill.
As a heavy scent of filet, settlles softly on parting lips, a final chapter of an aching breaking heart… Jump starts a chorus of the dead, sinking deeper into the floor, where pale skin greens, like ivy on stones, behind a locked and silent crow.
