A twisted glow
looms under the surface.
My hands are bound.
I'm silenced.
I'm a host for that demon...
The one with the cold look
and the warm skin.
My face is serene now.
The silver ghost caresses my face.
From it,
Warmness blooms
From my cheekbone to my chin.
The sting is running deep through my skin
As I try to break free...
Bite the hand
that feeds you
When the food is being shoved down your throat.
Because you have nothing to lose.
Maybe I want this.
Maybe I want the fire.
Maybe as the golden dragon makes it's way towards me,
As it's breath is hot against my face,
I will welcome it as it wraps around my wrist.
It's