Bright lights puncture holes
In the velvet-blue night sky
Crowds cheer for thunder
The smile could not
Mask her malcontent for those
More worthy and light
lifestyle
Sticky sweet, yellowed
Her cowardice betrayed true
Intentions, misdeeds
Sharp, dripping with lust
The point of the blade found its
Flesh and saw it die
Buzzing about my
Head were worries with sharp points
Ready to pierce my peace
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Fireworks
As the sun shone its
Last rays across the landscape
Moonlight touched his blade
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Pointing a waxen
Finger, the sickly witch watched
The figure crumble
