The memories have been sneaking up on me, trying to push me off the rail.

The crimson splendor running down my shoulder is how my soul will silently wail.

Here I am beneath the moon; her beauty soothes me with her light so pale.

She witnessed your guile and how you conspired when you perceived my heart was frail.

But, it’s the ones with many faces in their bag, and a smooth tongue.

The multi-faced spider, just waiting to catch you in their web of lies, trick bags, and deception.

These Individuals make a sport of it.