I held her head skyward, her eyes to the stars.
The specks of light among the dark,
To see the bits of bright stabbing through Night’s heavy cloak.
Even when starlit, her diamond clad hands,
(Stained by a scar littered past)
Would tremble in my memory.
Washed of the scarlet stream,
Burned by the harlot’s dream,
What damsel wouldn’t tremble in the presence of a monster?
So where I stood beside her,
She shivers in remembrance.
Because I am her spider,
Not her knight “oh so chivalrous”.
And I must leave her ashes charred,
Her body scared.
Because I am the budding cancer in her heart,
The spark to her ash, the feared and forgotten.
This is goodbye.