Deep
.
In winter, ice completely hides
The life down in the pond's insides,
Unreadable, forbidding, flat:
My demon is a bit like that.
.
The sky, my namesake, stretches high
Above my head, beyond my eye.
Likewise his past reels out of sight-
Fit story for a long, cold night.
.
And yet my demon will not tell
By what he earned his digs in Hell.
'A secret' he does not intend,
To share, my 'virtue' to forfend.
.
But I would give my 'purity'
To learn what's under lock and key,
So as to know him, and learn what he
Truly, really thinks of me.
