Tyhnu’s Messed-Up World

      Children rejoice the Fairylands
Filled with swirling voices
Singing soft duets
That coil around their souls.
The beckon to dark places
Where pleasure reings
And sihouettes are tumbled dry.
The feathered touch of lightning
Paints a picture of sheets
That light dares not touch
For fear of losing self.

      I drowned that night in flames
In glass eyes painted black
That stole me away to Eden’s garden
Where Eve once danced in boughs
Softly splayed for serpents.
Every night I called to him:
“Come to me and make me scream
Like Jesus nailed to the cross
To wake the bowels of a dream
Of memories forgot and lost.”

      I came to her with blackened heart
Expecting no more than a goodnight kiss
Instead she straddled my desire
And swept all reason away.
I know it was wrong
But try as I might
Soft fingers and nimble tongues
Are difficult to ignore.
She knew what she wanted
That child dominatrix.

      The poem is written by me mostly, though Vaniol helped with the last bit(since it is supposed to be from his point of view). In short, my latest uncovering of memories has proven to be beyond shocking, and this poem should give a pretty clear idea of just what that is.

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