|
Some sing of happiness and love
draw flowers bound with silken cords but I yearn to paint dark vistas and conjure ravening hordes Cold stone brooding castles loom with lurking danger, flashing swords and heros languish in vile dungeons entombed by craven dragon lords Ladies fair with ivory hair proudly ride on blood red steeds to rescue heros from vile dungeons and praise them for their mighty deeds Boiling clouds in darkling skies tattered by the shrieking wind and thunder like the crack of doom where stinging lightening forks have been The sun sets in a crimson furnace dry as the dust of wind swept bones The savage colors stir the dreamers and the poisonous rage of serpent drones Night comes down on shadowy wings, owls come ghosting by to jeer Enchanted living dreams instill a sweet and satisfactory sense of fear A wise and ancient evil waits out of demon nightmares from times untold drawn by the lust for mystic rubies and the pale cold fire of gold The stars speak not of love to me but of rabid wolf packs, chanted spells and insane moonlight burns my eyes and summons demons from thirteen hells So I leave to others songs of love of day like spring without a care I toast you with a venomed chalice and tell you all I dare |