Now tell me such a tale sir
while I am tightly bound
of captive maidens held sir
where evil knights abound.

Then taken to be used sir
in their castles of renown
of tortured girls so sweet sir
who are forced so to kneel down.

Then tell me of the dungeons sir
within the fortress drear
with chains upon the walls sir
where I might be held in fear.

Then show me what it means sir
to be such a prisoner
where nothing else is real sir
but myself as a damsel fair.

Then make me live the thought sir
that I might so lie within
and tortured all day long sir
for each imagined sin.

Then secretly find pleasure sir
in all that’s done to me
while my knightly captor sir
has me on my knees.

Then eventually confess sir,
to all my worldly sins
while my sadistic lord sir
is making me more commit .

Then tie me even tighter sir
with every knot aware
rough ****** I now need sir
to think myself as there.

Then make me taste your whip sir
to force me to submit
of the marks you leave sir
you care not a single whit.

Then take me as you will sir
and drive me really wild
make sure I’m deeply kissed sir
where I feel it burn inside.

Then hold me in your keep sir
and bend me to your will
and use my body more sir
for my needs are never still.

Then stand me on the brink sir
and show me just the edge
of where I shall be pushed sir
with just the slightest nudge.

Then tie me up and leave sir
to dream and squirm at will
of the ways I might be used sir
in your castle on the hill.

**
From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 **** Verses 2016

I spent years of my life in a fantasy world.

waters inhabited with murlocs
Forests with centuars and unicorns
I had badass armor
Spellbooks, Abilities, Charisma modifiers!

When you live in Dungeons and dragons you finish quests, unlock gods,
Slay Monsters

When my DnD group broke up

I didn't lose a group of friends.
I lost a party of adventurers

Their eulogies pronounced at the end of that final nat one
Will never be forgotten.

Portaits carved like improv comedy routines.
Characatures of our ideal selves
Bound, sealed, stuck on a book shelf
We deserved another sequel.

When the party healer crumpled her car against a Concrete wall at 70 miles an hour
It made sense nobody else knew how to cast raise dead.

In a world that is supposed to play out our ideal realities
it was no question her charecter lived eternal. the way she would have wanted.
The way we wanted so badly to be true.
Nobody felt right taking over her charecter.
And nobody wanted to **** her off.
So we wrote her story.
Every die she had tossed this whole adventure. Each murloc she ran from, each unicorn she rode, etched into a leather bound tome.
Placed Right on the same shelve we kept our pathfinder books.
Her headstone.
We never played after that.
But she did.
When we placed the novel next to the flowers her mother left.
We felt her cast healing song
one last time
And that night
We got a full rest

Gwar'th, a scranny peasent boy
from Deastbhillow
Frequented the tavern to hear the local bard play
Enthralled by stories of shipwrecks, cataclysms, Corpses rising from their graves.
He begged the bard over and over.
"Please! take me on your next adventure?"
Gwar'th locked eyes with the bard
Gave him every bit of attention.
The bard always declined,
"it's too dangerous for a child." He said,
"But I'll sing you a song.
The tale of the Red Metal Lute."
~~~
The sky was black
pouring buckets.
You couldn't see but walls of rain
you couldn't hear a ****** thing.
Not even each other speak
Until A loud wail rose from the sea
shattered every window and bottle on board.
In the distance, a figure
unwaivered by the storm.
A ghostly figure,
with a red metal lute
Seemed to fly,
Loom on the rain.
the figure plucked a single string
wailing screams from years of forgotten dead
some sailors on board went mad
The woman and children ran inside.
The captain headed out the cabin.
Grabbed his lute from off the wall
Walked right up to the ghostly demon
Challenged him to a duel.
"I win, you lure me the biggest fish
inside this ghostly sea
Once we haul it back to shore,
you let my sailers leave."
The ghostly demon preached back in wail
"My spoils claim each drop of blood
left upon your ship,
you'll join all the eternal tongues
wailing from my instrument."
They played their lutes so hard that storms whipped bruised wailed and brown
Lighting struck, fire popped and squeltched under the heavy rain.
Not a soul on board could hear the music, for they all deaf from the banshees wail.
But one small float snuck cloaked in shadows from the duel above the sails.
It had a mother and a brother
a baby in the mothers arms.
They made mostly to shore.
The oceans trials took all the family, but I, the baby,
A boy.
I don't know who won, the Captain, the Demon.
But I know one thing is true.
The power that lies within' an instrument
is more then anybody knew.
~~~
One foggy night in Deastbhillow
Long after the tavern closed
The bard was packing for a 'venture
loading up the partys caravan to head out of town
Gwar'th snuck on behind the treasure chests.
It stopped in front of a cavern
Five adventurers stepped off
A knight, a priest, a bard, a Clairvoyant
And In the shadows,
Gwar'th.

Down in the belly of the cave
Past the bones and the torches
there was a red glowing from the end
THE RED METAL LUTE
Gwar'th, excited, lunged from the shadows
Alerting the party.
The knight drew his weapon
The bard struck a chord
The priest prayed
And The Clairvoyant read the boys mind.
Together They killed the boy in cold blood.

"What did it look like to you?" Said the Preist
to the knight who slaughtered the boy.
"A beautiful woman.
What did it look like to you?" The knight asked the priest.
"My god."
"What did it look like to the boy?" The bard asked.
"An instrument," said the Clairvoyant, "A powerful instrument.
What did it look like to you?"

The bard looked down.
"The boy."

I spent years of my life in a fantasy world.

Well. Lots of fantasy worlds.

My clothes were cooler
Voice smoother

Choices simpler.

You finish quests, unlock gods, Slay dragons
.
When my DnD group broke up I thought:

If I'm not the gnome bard or the elven ranger or the dwarven barbarian

Who am I?

The answer:

I'm the kid,

Who was doodling demons in the corners of classrooms.

Who didn't quite make it through the pacer test in one peice.

Who spoke up a little too loud about religion and not loud enough about being bullied.

Who didn't have party's to go to because he was to busy with his party of heroes.

Who will I be now?

I can write my charecter sheet however I want too.

Natural Twenty on my charisma

Critical hit my failures

Damage reduction on Haters.

In real life, I paint my face on blank canvas

I have one simple goal.

I want to levitate slightly off of the ground

While summoning an undead army and shooting fireballs from the sky.

I might not get there.

I'll be ****** though, if I don't roll for it.

Take a look at all these stories.
Every detail marked in delicate pencil.
Inventory, backstory, spells per day.
You wrote these character sheets.

You put the devil's **** in their pockets.
Keen rapier on their hip.
Their numbers clasp fingers like chain mail.
You wear it like a valiant knight.

You look like an infant covered in pots and pans.
Clanging
Babbling
Holding colander to your head playing make believe.
It doesn't even fit you right.

This armor you made yourself doesn't even fit you right.

What are you if not a knight?
What are you if not an infant?

You've fought dragons, finished quests.
Conquered battles you didn't even want to fight.
At the end of every session you collected your experience and said "See ya next week!"
This session doesn't end.
You can't just stop rolling dice.
Have to keep playing.

Drink the +5 energy Brown Liquid.
Roll to see if your car starts.
Perception check to see if you hit that baby in a stroller.
Roll charisma to try and get a discount on that Pair of pants.
Nailed it.
You didn't check for traps in this relationship.
Take 15 heart damage.
Spend the next six months trying to recover.
You are noticed by a woman.
Roll initiative.
The girl goes first.
She tells you she loves you.
You're knocked prone.
She gets an attack of opportunity on your ability to sustain relationships.
You wonder why you wandered down this alley to begin with.
Roll for Charisma Burst.
It succeeds.
She is stunned.
You run.
Double your move speed.

Burst into the town bar.
You ask for quests.
They give you whiskey.

Your vision is slightly blurred
You wake up in strange place.
Roll a perception check.
It's an unfamiliar small apartment.
Your clothes seem to be by your side on the ground.
Roll me a knowledge check.
The apartment of some girl you hooked up with last night.
Your eyes peek up from the pillow and see a beautiful...
Man.
You did not roll very high on your knowledge check.

Roll dexterity to gracefully get up from the bed and leave quietly.
It fails.
You fall flat on your face to a loud THUMP sound.
The man wakes up and smiles down at you.
Roll initiative.
You go first.
You run out of there
Double your move speed.
Roll another Dex check to see how much of your stuff you were able to grab.
You snag your bag but you never bothered to put your clothes on
So you're running down the street in your boxers with a black backpack.

Roll perception to take inventory of your backpack.
You have a change of clothes that you packed for the next morning.

Socks +5 comfort
Boxers +5 freshness
Pants +10 decency
Shirt +2 Stain.

Your laptop and chargers are all in there.
You can't seem to find your phone.
Spend a luck point to reroll perception to find your phone.
Fails.
Spend another luck point to reroll perception to find your phone.
Fails.
Spend your last luck point to reroll perception to find your Oh, thank god.
You found your phone.
Call a cab
Get the hell out of this town.
Roll effectiveness of taking this shower.
Drink the +5 energy brown liquid.

There's no "That was a great session guys!"
"Congratulations! You slew the dragon! You all get 500 experience points!"
"See you all next week."

You just keep rolling.
And rolling.
Until one day it all stops.
You roll poorly,
Encounter something way above your level.
You can run.
Find a healer.
Get home, take a full rest.
You can't just make another character sheet.
There's nobody to look at your scraps of paper.
All the characters you rerolled to be who you are now.
Bits and pieces of all the wars, quests, dragons.
They're you.
Remember them,
Learn from them.
Keep rolling.

Sitting in the aftermath
Of shattered dreams on broken skin
Left to wonder how
Realizing we are all capable of unmentionables
Steeped in regret
Begging forgiveness
Accidents are accidents
Still, there is no forgiveness
Self-affirming the negative
Unintended consequences
Alter perceptions
Who are these people
Who, then, have I become
Though, that who feels more like a what
And the demons laugh
As they frolic in the real world
Let them run free
Let them dance
Who I was
Will hide in their dungeon
For it is safer in there than out here
Yes, it is much safer
And there is no one
To say differently

          Punish the guilty
                    Punish the guilty
                              Punish the guilty

Who needs proof
What is proof
It was only an accident
Unintentional circumstances
Affirm nightmares
No one will find me in here
Safe in the lair of the beasts who bore me
Alone inside my head

It is no accident that we have palms
With fingers extending from them
For when we unite our two hands,
They become a blooming flower.
We can follow the veins with our eyes
From fingertips to hearts
Blushing red.

Pumping into us another day
Another hope
Another dream
To find within ourselves the petals
To water faithfully.

I have watered fatefully.
Yet my flower has grown too long
In chilly dark basements
With mold growing in the corners and
Cobwebs decorating cracking walls.

I’ve only the strength to crack a thin beam of light
To dance upon the corners of my flower.
When will the music invite more?