Slowly, we're peeling the paint away
And rediscovering cracks that run like mazes.
In these hollow walls, teetering on decay:
A threat to tear down the empty spaces.
Through the orifice, we witnessed the stars,
Their radiance covered you like a disease,
Infiltrating deep into our hearts, hiding the scars;
In your eyes, I've found my release.
Entwined, we drift along the margins of desire,
Jagged spires shaped by heavenly wrath.
Salvation floats to us in lilting choir--
...We were meant for the moonlit path.
In the aftermath, the paint flakes fell to the ground,
My fingers searching yours, lifted dread.
We've said a million words in muted sound:
I found the interior to be the wrong shade of red.