Cold as winter, strong as stone;
He faces darkness all alone.
It stains his soul
Turns him dark;
A pentagram burns in his eyes
Soft, pale twists of wolfsbane squeeze his heart.
Wraith, phantom, dark side of the moon;
Shadows blending lies and truth.
Broken mirrors in the silence of his mind;
That empty room is merciless in this stretch of mortal time.
A hole punched through his chest;
Leaving ragged, unhealed gashes 'round the edges that throb and bleed with every breath.
He curls inward
Hugs his ribs to hold himself together.
Opens himself
bleed away all the pain of his anger.
A violent angel of a boy caught in a forever-fall,
who seems to believe his time and love worth nothing at all.
Can't he see how precious he is?
how full my life is because he lives?
That there's a way to heal
the holes and scars his rage reveals?
All he needs to realise
is what he looks like in MY eyes.