dark paradise

If there was ever a textbook Example of a darkly Beautiful complex woman it would be the woman sat with a unreadable expression in front of me. Her black dress black heels clink against the floor making my head shake slightly oh how pitiful but I need no pity . My name I have somehow forgotten who am I a and why am I laid up with such a lovely young woman taking care of me not that I am older than her she seems to be slightly older from what I understand and it's seems I have been missing for a few days a detective who had come by the house earlier had explained to me like what the hell even when I try to remember I get this feeling like rusty nails are being stabbed into my head and the young lady says she is my girlfriend like what? Lucky Elsa is pretty understanding so far but I have noticed darker thoughts and feeling lingering behind us like bury beneath her eyes and my soul within . Like earlier I did not react but she kiss me while I was asleep. And this house has some major negative aura and an atmosphere of a cursed beauty alone in a Mansion which Elsa seems to be . Darkness seemed to entrap the mansion be it day or night like their was no sense of light or dark cold or warmth day or night. When you found what you thought was day is found to be night when the light is found with inner darkness Buried within.i can feel something wrong here a lingering fear waved and buried in the floors of this house like a curse making this house a house of night never to see day. a love is seeded in the body of this house by the very same beauty that is as darkly kissable leading around the house by the noses i lay down with this devil please heavenly father guard my soul from the tamping from lips of a devilish witch in the shadows in my ears in my eyes and therefore drilling its way into my every waking hour. this devil this witch calling itself Elsa is like a rose with hidden thorns get to close than a knife in the back is the least of your worries she wont let you go no matter how much you say you hate her beg for freedom i can now say death is not an escape the house is the witch workshop like they say idle hands are the devils workshop. death is not the end her love is her sweet devilish magic words and i am her muse for evil a home away from the eyes of the evil she poison into the grounds of the village as i see it was cursed by this very witch catching her eyes has stab a spell sword into the very spine of the story book of my life cursed tale