When Eyes Run Dry

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You’re kidnapped by the serenade,

of  the whispers before they hush.

Your eyes seduce the blade,

as you crave and dread the rush.

Your skin and the steel collide,

and the edge delivers chills.

Now all of your fears subside,

as the crimson slowly spills.

Words from the Mouth of MidnightWhere stories live. Discover now