Of Teeth and Pacts
I met her eyes, a shroud, divine,
Her breath devoured the space of mine.
No weight of sin, no mortal chain,
A beauty born of blood and pain.
Her claws, like art, could carve my soul,
Yet in her gaze, I found me whole.
No mercy tames that ancient creed,
The lion's hunger, the crimson need.
Between us stretched the shadow's grin,
No pact exists with bone or skin.
And yet, I laughed, her smile arose,
A fleeting bloom where chaos grows.
But past that realm, where death transcends,
A truth persists: no hearts as friends.
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