Ransom

Scatter your seeds
see who grows first
futility in your weeds
Longing for just a sprout
Coping but helpless
attention of your doubt
Change your reflection
the mirror never lies
a new seduction
Vanity in your shelves
The lovers left
to rot in thier Hells
Always to play the victim
Ransom is never high
but your heart is cold to them
Your scorched sands never change
but bend with each passing wind
Trigger pulled, target in range