She smiled at me,
And I fell for her because she was kind.
She sang to me,
Her voice so sickly sweet, like quicksand, pulling me in.
She wrote to me,
Her words enchanting me, caught in her devices, a slave to her will.
She let go of me,
A slow, murderous savior.

Nature steps back from her light-wielding fallen angel,
Golden locks of strawberries, blue eyes of the most cynical gray,
A siren once, though vengeful still, her words ring empty now.

Hush, your words are poison to my ears,
Play hero once more for me and stop speaking.
Adoration, I know better than most, is you goal,
You’ve had mine, now, please leave me to rest in peace.