shall I draw you in from the shadows?
it is cold; and you are trembling.
I would;
but are you ready
to leave that darkness behind you?
I danced,
whilst you lay sleeping,
and sprent my fairydusts * * * * * * * * * * *;
and those black dragons,
that winged amok
within your mind,
are now truly dead.
the dead cannot hurt us;
not unless we embrace their crumbling corpses,
or kiss their brittle lips.
I will not lie;
you are alone,
and ever shall be.
yet; so are we all,
and we can huddle together,
and thereby find the warmth.
with you here,
my dear,
it is better.