I'm sorry that my wings have flown your way without me, due to the wind changing in the direction that I now fly. I can not reside beside you this night or any other.
Femme fatale you are much like a snake.
This new love that I have found is now the one whom owns my wings; she is like a hawk.
But I am merely a field mouse in distress.
I run in open vastness, but she sees me from above.
She professes that I am lovely, and I reply that she is beautiful.
While she flies, you creep across the plain, keeping low to your wretchedness.
I'm so afraid to look up.
Afraid that I will get lost in her beauty she displays
If I were looking at her gracefulness too long, I would be open and unguarded for an attack.
You are venomous, but she does not contest the same expression.
Clinched in her beautiful claw, so therefore I could fly with her.
I would like to be in the sky, away from the fate that awaits me on the ground; falling subject to your fangs.
The only thing that keeps me second guessing myself is that I can't choose which I would rather be consumed by.