The Good People

Whispering Willows and lingering wings

Distant gossamer and silken dust shrouds your dreams

Suffocating silk and cloth contacted clover

Venomous ivy our blood the donor

Crying and screaming and wrangling woods

Running from entrapping roots from the people of good

They wretch and wail, spelling ill fates to the wind

The daydream’s roses falling to nightshade sins

Fey folk be tiny with pristine snake eyes

Wrinkled wings and clawing limbs pierce the sky

Enchant the innocent children with a burned thyme lavender chants

To force them into the ring of wild tribal magic dance

Running round riveting roots and rivers to drown

With snow white children’s toes perspiring bloody footprints to the ground

Songs of gentle bells and deer calls swivel and dip

Shadow casting menacing trees and poisonous tulips

Cheers cross as the child does flow down the single stream

Dropping body after body down the golden twigged hole of dreams

They cross and quiver with quick envy shouts

Crawling and quaking with empty belly glouts

Each wee fairy and large oaken beast

Coax down the body a kiss of the dying mist

A feast! A feast! Do the crowing walls leak

Of childs blood and dirty secrets, hiding the meek

Does dawned and perthroned can a queen of hathaway hum forward

Her elegance and rose cheeks in the sight of a bloody corpse be altered

Dressed in rose thorns, spider silk and scorpion tails

The queen of nightmares dawns herself in the entrails

Drawing up a long single fingering lance

Slashes the jugular with a swift and spluttering Slash!

Lost in the hours and bones of the brittle night

Fey and good people call out a bristle born fight

Picking over fingernails and sweet tasting hairs

Left with the thickened tongue and torn derrière

Coaxing and coxing, bathing in sweet tooth bile

They crimp cover crawl in the throatal wail

Skin slack awrigle a winged parasites

Sleeping lungs and poppy plugs left’n right

Hares and bones, slim picking of preposterous puny

Skull and torn silk left with wrinkled grape eyes a pruny

A dare a dash of raven clawed eyes and cat ears

Mutilated child corpse and flower braided skin promise the fey here

Without lost of reason or lucid portrayal

The truths of the world are lost in fairytales

Fey and good folks the beginning and last animals

Living feasts- humanly cannibals