the doe eyed
dreamers in a
deluded belief
i could ever
be the bright apple
of your twinkling eye

i am simply the
cyanide in the seeds
you should never
even consider
planting in your
precious heartsoil

i am a blight
a biblical portent
leading only into
a cyclical maze
of decaying wishes
lit by long dead stars

my ever fluctuating
glimmer an illusion
leading lonesome moths
to the electrical storm
which leaves only ash
where adorations die