My Lord Carpathian

Reload my arrogant heart
drink of it
if it will please you

My Carpathian Lord
I am not one of the in-tune
lacking of beat
a retracted tempo

Feast on me

Then
drift me to a figment
of imagination
when your savoring
in me is done

I will not remember
cast black eyes into me
slumber the memory of you
leave a vision of what lives amongst the hopeful

She wakes.
She remembers.
She sees in her dreaming a wayward witch who covets the fresh liver of the eye painter to bring color to her dead heart.
She screams.
They gather.
They will protect the painter of eyes.

© K S Hardy 2011

My Lord Carpathian

Arcadia Tempest

Joined November 2008

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