He’s the wrong kind of thrill
The lightning on the hill
He’s danger with a chill
And break your heart he will
He’s a double dose of worry
With plenty more occurring
He’ll leave you in a hurry
More sorrow is stirring
He is endless frustration
Constant acceleration
Another sin to damnation
But rarely lost in translation
He is a lie carefully plotted
A delicious apple now rotted
The only lover I ever wanted
The very reason I am haunted
He’s the door to the void
And to hope a decoy
A weakness to exploit
He’s how heavens been destroyed
© Delia Ross. 2020
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