welcome to the
haunted hallowed hawthorn
home
we open our
skeletal facsimile
beams
and let you
in

down
down
follow the
whispered chant
it will
beckon
it will
taste
but never
shall you
deign it
'surrender'

fluttered pieces
flickered flesh
muttered misters
and loneliness

we chastise
the vacuous abyss
of your eyes

blink

i dare you

will you
gaze
your grips
on fettered
sounds
the imprisoned
moans
of innocent
souls
it bites, it cleaves, it runs, it rams

but does it sing, my darl?
does it light up your world?

their treasured yawn
is taste enough
so hear me,
hear me,
for naught but the buttered price
of
princely royalty.