The devil on the roof
A shadow stirs beneath the waning moon
A sleeping lord a lord no more quite soon
Betray'd at times by the creak of leathers,
Still he keeps his feet as light as feathers
His was a youth robb'd of a mother's love
On this he ponders as he tugs on his glove
Could this truly be his only destiny?
That of a deft thief bound to infamy?
The sudden cough of a crow kills all thought
Leaving our brave hero quite distraught
Aye; the ghostly rogue stops dead in his tracks
Please understand; fear is something he lacks;
But that caw had the ring of an omen
Lo! On yon balcony stands a bowman!
The lord has grown careful in his old age
But draped in dark the roof is a thief's stage
Unsheathing his daggers in bleak silence;
Down he floats to exert his violence
A perfect lateral slash ends the clash;
The archer dies sporting a spurting gash
Ever thankful of such god given luck
He grins and lets go of a wicked cluck
"Ouch, such a nasty wound there on your throat,
Mind me cleaning these daggers on your coat?"
Slipping boldly in the lord's chamber door
He halts at the lack of a lordly snore
Bemused in truth he sneaks towards the bed;
Admitting to himself a growing dread
But no prince lies amidst the silken sheets
Hearing naught but his own giddy heartbeats;
He stares upon the siren laying there
Never has he seen a lady more fair;
For here lies a goddess of pure allure
This is more than he could hope to endure!
Her skin the fabric of a thousand dreams;
And her hair woven gold, or so it seems!
So perfectly curved are her milky thighs
Her eyes a pair of diamond mines; her eyes!
"Aye, my brazen thief, I am quite awake;
Make a move an' end your days on the stake!
Ah, but fear not, my fierce and handsome sneak;
I offer a deal, hark, or I shall shriek"
Thus did the Devil on the roof become two;
A tale I am sure you believe is untrue
Be that as it may; I shant forget that day
Nor the look in her eyes as we snuck away;
For hers was a youth robb'd of a mother's care
And my coming mark'd an end to her despair
Ours is a union unmatch'd in its full bloom;
That of two spirits' rapture within the gloom
We shall traverse these old roofs forevermore
Stealing as before what life might have in store
Poetry by Thomas Selnes
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Written on 2006-08-17 at 05:53
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