Die So Fluid

This unholy temptation grows,
it's an epidemic
sweeping through my soul.
Tell me my familiar,
should I dare to go
with my hand in his,
an unfurling rose.
Do good things come to those who wait
or do they wait forever.
We made a pact in blood and tears
that we could not be severed.
Nerves run high and resistance low,
and our misconceptions,