My soul is captured in her stare.
Hands crippled by my craft; I am no longer a craftsman..
No longer a man of my word but I still speak with the depth and darkness of oceans.
A false Prophet.
A fools profit.
But She is far from naive and has nothing to lose.
Now she just stares and although I can no longer charm her with my craft,
My soul is captured in her stare..
..and when she closes her eyes, I’m hers.