Pretty flower
Without compare
In your desert prison
Away from my aching heart
How it stings to see you so

Darling fiancee
Wife to be
How I hate this man
Who covets thee
I would fight but I am
I instead write for I am

And in the middle a silent doe

How I howl with glee to see the pain
The sorrow and the drama
For I am the darkness
With tears I am fed
Virgins I steal with my creeping lust
Sons I mould with my wicked whispers
Daughters with my chains of child
Another squalling infant to feed me
For I am the darkness

See how I pit thee against one another
Men of opposing stance
For I am the darkness
Quaint hen in the middle
Charms to lure with secret meetings
Denying everything when it all comes to head
Inflamed tempers as the action heats up
For I am the darkness

-I dedicate this rather impromptu and abstract poem to you and your
amusing triangle. I do hope you enjoy it-





Penned by my hand on the 11th of Vita, in the year 483 AD.