The Possibility

He sees her:
Her brown hair is bushy, but somehow
Has a mysterious shining wave;
The intelligence brimming
Within sparkling eyes;
A certain defiance set
Upon her quick-witted tongue;
Complicated and intricate,
A witch such as she;
Her heart tied so squarely
To her lioness loyalty.
He wants it for himself,
For his soul dwells
Within a guilty darkness.
Her confidence and strength
Sparks in him a certain interest;
She is a beacon woven
Into the blackest of nightmares,
Reining in his sanity.
His heart beats quicker
When her hand flutters in the air,
But a vile tone he must keep,
Unable to face the possibility...
Yet still, she stays-
An eyebrow arched;
A mischievous grin;
A stable and free-dwelling spirit.