Canto
I:
As she whispered, sweet vengeance- in
ghostly prose-
From lips of sanguine and devils tongue;
The daggers blood ooze fueled his
woes.
Alas he did quiver, as if to suppose.
He had seen his fate, freshly hung.
As she whispered, sweet vengeance-
in ghostly prose.
He screamed, "I am trapped, in
Bluebeard's coves.
The victim of deception sung!"
The daggers blood ooze fueled his
woes
"M'lady I prithee, that in my throes
you shall not leave me on rafters
strung!"
As she whispered sweet vengeance- in
ghostly prose
"I cannot forsake you, for God only
knows,
the justice I feel in breathless
lung."
The daggers blood ooze fueled his woes.
"Are we the horrors, or
Greek heroes?
Who in hubris Nemesis stung?"
As she whispered sweet vengeance- in
ghostly prose-
The daggers blood ooze fueled his woes.
Canto
II:
Behind her lips a smile bloomed,
like foul smelling ivy on broken wall.
As in her eyes, the flame consumed.
The deed was sealed, so she presumed,
That he, in foolish folly would fall.
Behind her lips a smile a bloomed.
She knew that for him Atropos loomed
provoked by Hades cackling call.
As in her eyes, the flame consumed
As she was in flight, he’d surely be
damned!
Like clueless, confused and subservient thrall.
Behind her lips a smile bloomed.
As he was now finished- she assumed,
that she could escape this heavenly hall.
As in her eyes the flame consumed.
For when his ashes were exhumed,
they would see the maggots crawl.
For behind her lips a smile bloomed,
as in her eyes a flame consumed.
Canto
III:
Inescapable providence: where none succeed!
Our blood, for their blood; their bones, for our
soul,
Is this the God’s only reprieve?
The haunted blade it must receive
It’s ritual coat to make it whole.
Inescapable providence: where none succeed!
In her stomach, where anger seethes,
Stab her breast and pay her toll.
Is this the God’s only reprieve?
Though she gargles you’re not relieved.
To burning hell you have to stroll.
Inescapable providence: where none succeed!
With stabs unrelenting: you must concede
Your life was controlled by mystical
scroll.
Is this the God’s only reprieve?
In blood her smile did not recede,
In blood his rage made him whole.
Inescapable providence: where none succeed!
Is this the God’s only reprieve
