prey

 
culted feelings laugh
I am dressed in black,
black is my soul
the mirror of my moodiness

reflections of my demons mock
I seek the secret solace
inside of the bedlam
I am darkness
giver of dreams and visions
disturb not my silence
it bids you well

in the art of temptation I was created
a gifted courtesan over the flesh
lilting need I feel you calling me
I utter enchantments on the winds
may they find your greed
and appease your desire

sulk in the shadows
then strike in the night
darkened epiphany
feed your need

I am your woman
I understand your depravity
preying on weakness

as I do