She came to me as a vile of dust.
A means to a healing.
The taste was like rust.
Her wings were her secret,
her halo gave no light,
As my desperate song reached
her ears in the night.

I knew what she offered.
I knew the whole game.
But still, I moved forward,
like a moth to a flame.
Her vile sparked a flare,
that pierced through the black.
I knew in that moment,
I would never be coming back.

The flare lit the dust,
it’s smoke filled my being.
An offering to the soul,
to keep it from leaving.
Each grain was a promise,
each breath was a sin.
Yet, a life that laid to end,
now stood to begin.

I walk through fog,
her whispers my guide.
I chase...