Withering Faith

The cold of your icy blue eyes reflects the devil within
While snow white hair gives the guise of an angel
The smirk on your face tells me I’ve pissed you off again
Pressing my luck, I playfully throw a punch
Which you skillfully dodge and counter
The coppery taste of blood floods over my tongue
Wine colored drops fall on pristine snow as your body tackles mine
Fast blows hit my face, furious strength driven by frustration
Just as swiftly you stop, a shocked apologetic look in your eyes
"Dante, I’m sorry."
All I can do is sorrowfully smile