my phantom covets your fire,
even your virtuous touch seems concupiscent sometimes
your warped soul and shabby form has indeed something to admire.

Hemiros horns grow stronger irrespective of day and night,
in search of a silent shelter we wander
to savour our serene act of love,
biding one's time our desires will dominate
till then we'll be driven to fight.

shredding through the layers of dismay,
the phantom wants to blend in you,
new is lost and old is found
this ripen souls knows what's true....

© aniket