Poetry: A Story Poem A Foiled Satanic Ritual, About to be Preformed on the King's Twin Daughters
"Heralding Knights' Unfold"
Sweet and slowed, crushed the Red Pepper
A little drizzle of salt for mirrored mate's
Buttered Bread is sugared and jammed
They are so disorientated, oh how Black Coffee burns
Buttered Toast now, chilled and blushed
None of these, their heathens hesitated
Their dinner shall be served upon them
Gossamer wings, their fetters mated
A nineteen year old vixen laced
The other unstained, but restrained
White and yellow roses strewn about
Fangs and claws are groomed and polished
Musical flutes; no strings, one or two tambourines’
Darkness falls, torches lit, drums roll, glowing eyes
Flaxen hair, golden blonde’s soon to be straw berried
And many times dipped into; a multitude of juices
Living tables; undressed but, not yet decimated
Guests, kiss and tongue these living suits pared
Children’s elixirs’ dissipates; head to toe, two victims
Now aware; but immobilized, so lonely
Silent tears roll upon their rosy cheeks
Drums and hums, forcibly entertain them
Movement ever so slight now; dinner is called
Fears strong arms and legs; they are re-roped and tied
Partakers have come to dance; children’s hearts, oh how they race
Scared stiff and silent, glimmering knives and spearing forks
Scraped together besides them, twin climaxes are unfolding
Sixty relentless hands; rub upon them gently, to entertain
The Guests’ are now being seated, silence falls once again
One last time their heads, raised high, eyes are tightly clamped
The evening air is damp, hoods fall upon the heathen’s backs
The King’s men delay their attack, then heathens close their eyes
And tilt back within their seats, their chins to the skies, they cry
Lucifer hear our praise, extended arms at their sides, their fingers they snap
Then Singing Saber Blades, swung by men dressed in purple and gold; unfold
Unarmored heads begin to roll, slow motion scene's
Unseen, by sisters wishing for salvation; just now, being seen
Fountains’ of sprouting droplets; defile, these living tables
Believed to be dead, by Crimson’s Pepper’s guards; who were very able
Old Red Pepper’s daughters are not found dead
A thought by Sinbad the Sailor Man
Thank you for the read Donnie/ Sinbad the Sailor Man
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