A curious chortle is her,
devoid of humor, a shell of a man
with vengeance seething out of hand.
Missing any spark of kindness,
he’s set aflame with anger,
teetering on the cliff
of letting his flames
fly at her.
Sulking in his mirrored world,
he swallows with distaste
the growing bitterness long denied
now dawning on his face.
Secrets always come up for air.
Well practiced in his detached manner,
he loves fanning the flames of disaster.
No longer trying to hide his laughter
at her fragile, coiled response,
he reaches out to halt her
with cold, demeaning lies.
She walked into this lion’s den
content to dance in his fire.
Needing his truths to seal
gaping wounds, she finds herself
too submissive to end this deal.
Soon simple inroads of trust burn out
with the growing threat of closeness.
From the depths of his glacial eyes shout
dark, mysterious entanglements
of his dastardly sins and deceits.
Groaning like rusty hinges
indecision holds her prisoner,
for his sad sort of truth
is the illusion that cages her.
