4 September 2012

I slowly sit, upon my throne, Of jade and ice and crafted stone, I take my staff within my hand, As I gaze out, across the land.

I sprinkle magyck sandman dust, Not gold, no, black, as dark as lust, I send them clouds of lashing rain, So they can play the darkest game.

I blow them kisses on the neck, Incise, precise, serrated peck, I bless them with a blaze of light, To guide the daemons through the night.

I shed my skin and slither, cold, Through faerytales, left untold, I lace pure fright within their prayers, And call out, "Angels, sweet nightmares."

MelchiorJ13Sweet Nightmares • Opuss № I