Member
Krasnaya
Leonas
Zygfryt
Tournesol
Darcel
HaleyTheRandom
Isolabella
Single Malt
Hokum
KuroTrust Me
There was an air of charisma
It clung to the curves she so eloquently wore,
His eye could never seem to find satisfaction
He looked at her many times, she knew it
With dislike, distaste, and sometimes a
Curious sense of want.
Why was it he chased still?
Perhaps it was the charisma
That drew so many others in.
Perhaps he had fallen victim,
But perhaps she had too.
That drew so many others in.
Perhaps he had fallen victim,
But perhaps she had too.
Her palms ached for his own within her loneliest hours
When perhaps his own were entwined with a woman worth less than she.
Had he not valued himself
As she had?
She was a treasure,
Perhaps not a good one
But one that was not to be shared.
When perhaps his own were entwined with a woman worth less than she.
Had he not valued himself
As she had?
She was a treasure,
Perhaps not a good one
But one that was not to be shared.
Her body had been tasted, devoured
Solely by the man
Who was more akin,
In nature,
To a wolf
Than he was to human.
But she too
Was akin to a snake
Venom dripping from words she spoke
Words not meant
And words hidden.
Solely by the man
Who was more akin,
In nature,
To a wolf
Than he was to human.
But she too
Was akin to a snake
Venom dripping from words she spoke
Words not meant
And words hidden.
Man and woman differ in more ways than physical
For a man can bring him self to physically touch another woman
When he has one that already craves him
Quite dearly.
However, woman is not pure of heart
Entirely.
She will play with the hearts of unsuspecting victims;
Waiting, without ruining her physical state,
For a wild male she adores to return.
For they always do.
Entirely.
She will play with the hearts of unsuspecting victims;
Waiting, without ruining her physical state,
For a wild male she adores to return.
For they always do.
Perhaps distance is a remedy to their sore minds.
But, sore minds that belong not to themselves.
Perhaps they think they have something nice, something new.
But, sore minds that belong not to themselves.
Perhaps they think they have something nice, something new.
But they can own nothing when they own not even themselves.
The woman, cold and shrouded with a strange charisma,
Choked the wolf whom entered her world with veils of bitter dislike.
Biting down at his neck,
Venomous words invading his body.
Perhaps she took his will, his life.
But he took her heart as his own
Clutched tightly,
Stolen wildly,
And forever it would beat.
Choked the wolf whom entered her world with veils of bitter dislike.
Biting down at his neck,
Venomous words invading his body.
Perhaps she took his will, his life.
But he took her heart as his own
Clutched tightly,
Stolen wildly,
And forever it would beat.
