My body is a temple. Ancient, crumbling, cursed and probably haunted I begged to be catered touched like no other hands of strength for my chaotic Witches cursed upon many resting faces to be valued like a saint like I was destined to be his fated mate My body is a temple. Ancient, crumbling, cursed and probably haunted Faced with the morals of tainted love grasped with designer flags The tomb is no longer holding like old rum its pursues the unfaithered and drowns them with there own hatred My body is a temple. Ancient, crumbling, cursed and probably haunted A value that not many can say they know For only certain hands can be placed upon such a sweet devil's body Addicted to pain yet the sorrow of cries to be loved right mixed with her night terrors howling into the cold winter night My body is a temple. Ancient, crumbling, cursed and probably haunted Wrote by ellay black