I seek comfort from the darkness beneath storm filled skies of blackened hate, hollowing my name at twilight leading me from slumbers rest. And in the shadows, the beast, an honest form of magnitude he has come for the devouring of my soul and he pretends to be neither prince nor knight and declares me still his Queen of devils night. He waits in the shadows vest, sucking on life’s lactating breast, crimson milk of sinners delight, for me, he says he’ll always fight. He prods me whilst I sleep and dream, he says you know you’ve the heart to be mean, child, flame haired girl be my Queen the darkness whispers, even in sleep he knows my soul listens. Fight the mockery that is love he screams between the veil of life and dreams, he’s made his choice, walk on by, let his princess be the one to cry. The shadows are my comfort, caressing at my soul, they whisper only honesty not some fucked up threesome show.
Karen Hayward ©2016