His heart beats in my hands.
He says I'm who he considers most beautiful in all the lands.
I feel much guilt
because one day he'll see the hilt
of my dagger in his chest...
I'm afraid I'm exactly like the rest.
Sure, I'm kind and sweet,
much like sugar-coated wheat
as you can have me in small doses
before you start to die of thirst. All I know is
I think grasp his fragile heart
It's red blood splattering in a wonderful work of art
And I'm terrified I'll crush it.
His eyes, they lit
up when he saw me.
He told his friends, "She-
is the one."
And he thinks he's won
but the scent of comfort now smothers,
and I'll hurt him like all the others.
