Mine own breath hath made this bed
Lips stained by tall tales, dripping in venom
Seducing your truth, layer by layer
Exposing its roots, leaving you in a scarlet trail of deceit
I am but a whisper my sweetness
A gentle, seething fable
A temple birthed from a burning myth
A tear filled painting by these blood-spattered hands
A masterpiece of ruin.
—Jordan Mantel