Regrets

A rover by trade,
shrouded in shade,
stalking the pale silver moon.

A knife is my friend,
whenever I end,
the flame in a beating young heart.

An emptying vane,
a blackening stain,
of blood on a white velvet bed.

I follow my pride,
and torment inside,
to maintain my dark work of art.

A breeze touch my skin,
a shivering chin,
and sadness is clenching my mind.

In shadows reborn,
my loyalties torn,
by perilous roaming apart.

A wanderers trait,
hounded by faith,
till time masks the signs of my grave.

#blogg