macabre

 
bloom with me lover
black orchid of the horde
dance the dance macabre
spin on a spindle of gold
weave your web of diamond chance

holding too tightly can hurt
let go and be real
do you think we know so little of you?

hard man are you in control then
I fear the pain yet reap it
it becomes me this sadistic art
healing comes with masochistic lusts

I am no angel truly I crave
at the heart of things I am decadent but true
fault me not for childhood haunts
the night calls I decline it's hate
it hunts my steps I will not