Syn and Synner

My darkness hovering over her body
Her mechanical spirit, broken
Speechless, lost, and oh so crippled
Bought from life with everybody

Her life and heart, a beauty
Once alive and a light in this wasteland
Which strikes down with pestilence
Any who would dare be happy

Her shattered shell, an imperfection
To those who would use her
And those who would take her
But not for me and my affection

She once asked if I could fix
A frozen, withered skeleton.
I told her it doesn’t work like that,
Only once do dead men cross the Styx

But she, she is no mortal man
She is my angelic machine
A machine can be repaired
And for my angel, I will do all I can

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