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

© DoraSiemel.com, 1975 All Rights Reserved