Prowler

[Patrick Haltiwanger]

deaden eyes that possibly once gleamed like the early morning sun

souled out by living a facade in the fast lane

filled with lies full of Bourbon

and false truths of ill intimacy

left as residue on wrinkled sheets

with stink of filthy, frivolous and superficial values

curling off you like smoke

sins on your flesh, you're dead to me

king of manipulation and affliction

prowling for an opportunity to devour the sweetest candy

inside the shiniest wrapper you can find

I decline, your kind is so hard on breakable things

like hearts and trust

my candy is not for sale

stop regurgitating your lustful guck on me

encoded in a deceiving pursuit of INNOCENT friendship

I can see right through you

those inauthentic eyes of yours

consumed by secrets

more secretive than the word itself

those lying eyes of yours, souled you out