His heart - a cold, jagged stone on a winter night.

Solace through man's greatest depths; a tombstone mind stirs so deep.

That if his eyes were doors, they'd lead to a moonlit grave.

Seduction creeps; the touch of a cold embrace.

For they won't be coming home, lest you contain the will.

Forever within; fused - corporeal fantasy to spirit.

Transcend decay - friends without without judgement.

Arrange the bones, burn the offering, and bathe in the blue light