At the start you seem
so calm, so willing to be
that sweet, careless thing
I often see.
But as we proceed
through that foggy sea
of night and day, of
living free
your eyes slowly turn
from faded blue
to firey green.
Your lips become red
and wet with sweat,
your skin goes from cream
to dark brown sheen.
Claws forcing their way
out your delicate hands,
which may
lash out against me
if they stay;
all Love concealed by
those thoughts on which
you prey.
Giving no heed
to the gentle tones I speak
your gaze follows me
until it all peaks-
you're closing in-
how can it have been
I never saw the hunger within
that fearless spin
you call a soul?
Too late now,
your claws unfold
instinct takes hold...
So much for children
So much for growing old.
