Poetry to catch your fancy

I have many characters in game, and I wrote this one for my warlock, Felinthice.


Silent Scream

Who among you stalk the halls,

Of shattered Keeps and ruined walls?

Searching for the secrets old,

Ancient tomes of truth untold?

Do the whispers touch your soul,

Like distant bells lonely toll?

Do your eyes disturb the haunts?

Shadows flicker, sigil taunts.

Raise your eyes to search the ceiling,

Weathered paint the scene revealing.

Icy fingers trace your ear,

Wordless scream your sudden fear.

Silence fills the empty hall,

A single drop of tear may fall.

Crumpled on the dusty floor,

Felinthice will rise once more.

Cupid's bow of luscious red,

Denies the finalty of dead.

A bond that lingers in the blood,

Cross dimension like a flood.

The rustle of a silken gown

Stirs the dust falling down.

Fingers trace a bloody trail

To leave a message without fail.

Linger here and feel the dread,

Of tingling spine and weary head.

From your eyes the salty tear,

I can taste delicious fear.

Stay with me and sate my hunger.

Run and you will suffer longer.

Wish you may for swifter death,

The rattle of your final breath.

As the flicker of the flame

Dances in the demon's name,

Jealous angels sacrifice

Virtue to the endless vice.

Pleasure in a lover's touch,

Leads to pain, but not too much.

Heightened senses long to feel

Gentle hands lust reveal.

Life is but a flickered flame,

Summoned from the Ethered Plane.

Will it come to lover's call?

And refuse Light's sweet pull?

Is there fear within your soul?

Awash like waves on sandy shoal,

Reaching for the edge of reason

No relief the change of season.

Pulled from Death the sweet release,

Back to beg for more to please.

Aware of all the sacrifice

Made to satisfy the vice.

Scented oils to ease the friction,

Crimson stains feed the addiction.

Not a drop will go to waste,

So exquisite is the taste.
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This is one I wrote for an old role play many years ago. Simple and sweet. It can come from male or female. I plan on using it to give this character, Maxwell Silverthorn, some material for readings at the Blue Recluse. When a time can be made to share. Sorry was meant to be posted on the previous character.


The Secret Glance

In the Dusk of daylight fading,
Thoughts of weariness are waiting.

Fingers touch the fluffy clouds,
Dressing night in purple shrouds.

Eyes that seem to catch the fleeting,
Shadows of the secret meeting.

Furtive are the darting glances,
Other eyes are samba dances.

Yet they never catch the stare,
Longing for desires glare.

Even as they never meet,
Foregoing pleasure ever sweet.

If there be a chance remote,
And hear the single sibilant note.

A sigh so tender and bereft.
A moment came and blindly left.

Footsteps come and then retreat,
Walking down another street.