Blue lights flicker;
drunken leaves laugh,
plaster themselves
to glass with transparent desperation,
the wind tap, tap, taps at the window
becoming the
demented queen, her beauty shrouded by inner qualities
yearning to give glistening apples to maidens
delicious and red, guaranteed to satisfy
the men of the house.
Beware Sweets, don't linger near the door too long
She will sweep you away
Clutching you into her bosom
Until you crave even the most dominating Sun
gripping you into her sad chilling song.
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