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.