Fraility

She laps at my wounds
A forked tongue for the wretch
The salt of betrayal suites her well
Pursed lips and kind eyes
Her cross to bear, I guess

She soothes me so
Within the filth of all I am
She suffers so
In the presence of grandeur
Shying in the depths of sorrow

Tomorrow gifted her to me
For yesterday's treason long abhored
The plight of my life
Her touch offers but damnation
I embrace death

Such beauty...