Cursed is the air I breathe,
It carries words fouled by lies,
For myself she will never grieve,
But knowing her, no surprise.
Color of blood and bone,
But of course lacking both,
She speaks through my lips of stone,
I wish to tell but she is loath,
And so the skeleton hand grips mine,
My creation can now create,
Why she, the most cruel design,
Her taste for pain I cannot sate,
She is a companion of steel,
Her courage is worth the price,
I'll never know if she is real,
But she will turn my soul to ice.
If you should laugh at me,
Trust me, she laughs more.
She a titan you will never see,
Unblinking eyes from a dusty shore.
The harshest of gems uncut,
At least, uncut in the stone.
Not teeth but claws in a jaw shut
Upon delicate skin a bloody throne.
For my good, for my weakness,
Morphed demon of the dead,
This very curse my lips shall bless,
Scream like a fool "out of my head!"
Don't leave me, most faithful of alibis,
She has for me honesty brutal,
Fancy this from the queen of lies,
I envy her smirk and gall.
I am the weaker of the pair,
Is it my hope or deepest fear?
That from my eye she'll always stare,
Or my name she'll blot and smear.
She is me, I am her, we are we.
To stealing me away, she is prone,
Perhaps someday it will only be she,
I know it will never be me alone.