My Intimate Poetry: Singe.

Others recline and enjoy their decent into hell. ― Tammy-Louise Wilkins

An eloquent splash of crimson,
Raked down her skin by his tears.
With each droplet from his forlorn eyes,
The intensity of her enchantment grows.

Depravity’s tint,
The moans trickle from her lips.
Upon her flesh, she paints her wish,
To be corruption’s faithful mistress.

The singe of sin delight her still,
As she decorates her weeping canvas.
His dejection warm the cold blood in her veins,
Whilst her lover colours her with wickedness.

One word brightens her mind,
As she makes her decent into hell.
She leaves this world with a final message of immorality;

2012 © Tammy-Louise Wilkins


  1. Narww i love this! :) <3

    Holly! :) xoxo


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