Light a circle of candles around me, a ring.

Look towards the light to see something that isn't nothing or the dark.

Listen to the owls hoot, to them failing to sing.

Listen to your heart beat however loud a pump or a bark.

The only thing that is illuminated by the candlelight is that thing

on your ring finger, yes that mood ring.

In synch with every drum of your heart.

Now let the curtains be drawn, let the ritual start.

Tell me what your eyes see,

a calm indigo, a warm burgundy?

An emerald green like jade?

A pale colour that will fade?

Well I don't care what hue it shows,

nor what shade it glows.

Because I don't need a mood ring to tell me how I feel,

So let the sunlight in and I'll show you what's real.

My flushed face,

my furrowed brows,

my sweetened rage,

my clenched fist soon you'll need to douse

the bruises on your forehead

then you may wish to revise your vows

before I put you on your deathbed.

I know you're no longer here but I just wanted to let you know,

how honey-sweet your soul tasted after that blow

to the face.

Look at you now, you dead disgrace.

∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎

ద ద 𖦊 ꪉ 𐀔 𐃸 ద 𖦊 ʊ

༒ ༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒ . . ༒

༒ ༒ ᜊ ༒ ༒ ༒

༒ ༒ ༒

༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒

༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒

ద ༒

༒ . ༒

༒ . . ᰔ

༒

༒