she saw him in the color red; of burning passion, alive with spirit, so inebriated with the idea of love that his upper lip quivered whenever he spoke of her. his voice was that of an angel's - mellifluous in the heavens but in his descent became a cacophony of lies as time passed by.
she remained at scene where the crackling of burning embers and flashes of bonfire overwhelmed her - a sensory overload. then she saw the color scarlet; for the blood on her hands was his - sticky with a metallic aftertaste.
YOU ARE READING
Arsonist's Lullabye
PoetryShe was not meant to fall in love with a mortal. [COMPLETED]
