You looked emptied of love inside your core. Leaning forward into declarations of accusations, you begged to differ with my demeanour, you sought to wander into the dark lands of spite beyond the gated pass, to wander into incubus night. Guarded and poised I crossed my arms to the pitch of frothy words, uttered sputtering from your mouth. The cave opened up and swallowing it gulped and spit, the teeth gnashing in the court of hell. You dwell there, with oil's lantern burning its last wick. Descending onward you came like 7 horses, black mane marred. Clenching for invention of a lie, smirked upon your lips as if shooting from the hip connected by a bone splintered and pierced through the heart of matters, what matters now is the vacant stare I see the history your once-love aspired through to be. It is the torn garment you now wear to clothe the hollow gutted love you yearn to break, to grind down below the grounding of all senses, forfeited and incensed at once when all else failed, reaping hoards of words you stored up for the final blows to show nothing to your ends, if not your own dissolve.