oh, to thee i’d give my heart,
if ’twere possible i hadst one.
thou couldst have it all to thyself,
so swift for thee ‘twould run!
but beggars canst be not the choosers,
and losing is for the losers destined
i know thou wantst me to be but
in me: darkness, deeply invested.
for there be bats and crows inside,
that canst never seem to hide,
escapst they when my smile’s wide,
all they want ’tis a glimpse outside.
thy eyes seest me in this the shell,
canst not thou see it’s marked for hell?
and what to thee can i possibly tell,
of the presence from whence i fiery fell?