Poison
He is poison, his eyes gloomy and vacant, entirely complacent, an unfathomable flaw, a deceiver by nature, absolutely cold to the core. Nowhere near a romantic, known to withdraw. Guns and rifles? Oh so obviously immature. He may well be a tyrant in a past life that’s for sure. A vessel that cannot love that mingles in lustful buzz. An incubus in human form that fights against the common norm. Opposites do attract for it is the opposite mind that imposes an attack. Solely recognised as nothing more than a cowardly act. Blame it on hormones or life experiences perhaps. Though what remains a fact?
That nothing is everything, everything is anything and anything can be a trap.
