Companion of Mine

she wears souls like one wears a heart on there sleve 

broken souls that are taken by maken promises that bound them to ever leave

each promise never fullfilled, each broken heart kept to mend a feeling 

she can never fell, all the power and essence of these souls she keeps trapped in a bag 

to use at her discrisction, tempt her with love but pull back , your in for a infectious 

if i told you what i seen you wouldnt believe

in a bag, she keeps hidden neatly packed, stacked upon each other

that when she pulls them out they spread about, each peice 

a severad head, bound by a sphere cimetracal lease 

not sure if they are living or dead, i know what i saw 

a disasambled beheaded head, in the rolledex she seeks as she goes to reach

sifilying through her mutitude of captives, each lost soul is said to be her hidden weapon

she rolls through her bag of souls as if she is seeking a tool or weapon to unleash, 

become laid out stacked as a 3rd dimensional realm of many masks

i see lighting strick in the distance and alone with them in the night she parttakes in chats and a develish dance, well advance sorcery or some form of witchcraft

not feeding or missleading her by my own energy, she faulters into her own trap

back to back my mirror is either reflecting all she is and has

creating a inner prison of prisms trapping or bounce back the attacks

then in a instance i painted the mirror blacker than any blackness she still lacks

mirror starts to crack 

no matter how many souls take a toul on the desereted road, 

no one will fullfill the emptyness in your deep abyss soul

afraid to lose or lose control , you learned the black arts to abuse and rule over 

to misslead and feed to hunt and take over, any you wish to devour