PRAVUS SALUS

She scratches.
Favoring the vein, she scratches at the inside of her flesh, imprisoned
Why can she find it not?
Pray tell, where the dragon sleeps, lest it finds her in the light.

She cries.
Holding within the trappings of flesh,
A lost soul, clawing at reason.
The dragon breathes once more, trailing the scent of sadness.

She writhes.
Drowning in sanguine regret, she claws at herself, in vain
It comes, regardless, it comes again to claim her sanity.
The dragon hates the light and swallows the soul for spite.

She screams.
Her happiness impaled on sinister revolt.
She cannot escape the beast inside, and it knows…
It knows she belongs in the shadow, she does…she does…

She withers.
The black and the heat falls back into her and she drinks of it
Slowly, a perpetual torment of duality, she portrays, she deceives.
The light denied, she drowns love and gives birth to sorrow in the pit of life.

She lives.
Living in this, not her place, she lives a lie, awaiting certain sin
How the dragon slithers, the truth be known, it slides through her heart.
She frees it from its cage, uncaring, becoming its master, the devil’s child.

She dies.
Breathes no more, but shell intact, she walks among the living, crying.
Tears of blood follow her, trodden in footsteps no longer alive, she falls.
The dragon is loose, the heart to devour and the imps sing their hymns - she is fallen.