Cicada orchestrated
summer heat.
I drag her through the woods.
Eyes meet in fleeting moments,
Should've turned back then.
Blood Lust.
Hell hath...
(...you should've turned back then.)
No fury.
Under the four folding suns.
Oh, Oh, Oh.
Blades, pristine.
Babe.
You should have run.
Death.
Magic.
Full moon. Come.

Saree Nyxi
May 8th 2017