Possession

You’re alone, he says.

Yes indeed, says I.

You will ever be, he nods.

Forevermore, nods I.

The music box will stop,

Your flesh will then turn gray,

Your body is a husk,

Determined to decay.

We shall die intertwined,

Falling circles down,

Lovers hands like ivy vines,

Causing us to drown.

Void is what Hell smells of,

Losing all your friends,

Out of reach, devoid of warmth,

As you dream, descend.

Twin flame I greatly beg you,

To hold my burning hand,

Please dry my stormy eyes,

Lead us to dreamland.

You’re with me, he says.

Yes indeed, says I.

You will ever be, he nods.

Forevermore, nods I.