10-19-2014, 11:21 AM
She stands, defiant, her beauty, jarring against the impending grey.
The mood, desaturated, his presence, viscous, inevitable.
She shivers, a moment of weakness;
He cedes, then violently his vast being rages,
ripping at her flesh
as innocent souls,
entranced,
huddle against the cold onset of winter
and watch the death of a flower.

