Is it
immoral of me
or just mortal of me,
that i want you
more than the heavens . . .

Some might call it Karma
         And for some it could be Fate
          Or perhaps a Poison Apple
        that you didn't know you'd ate

             It could be I used Magic
           and I cast a few Dark Spells
          and perhaps a Poison Potion
          or a Demon Curse from Hell

          I might have asked a Genie
           in a bottle for his wishes
         or asked a nasty Witch to help
           with pretend Princess kisses

I could have summoned Moaning Ghouls
      who'll haunt you in your sleep
      or coaxed a Vampire from his lair
              to bite you really deep

           While all this could be true
              as Fairy Tales might seem
               but trust me when I say
            this nightmare's not a dream

              You're feeling really bad
              your life is such a mess
            I slaughtered you with ink
            that is laid upon your chest

             My words they still linger
         like the banshees in your head
           to haunt your every thought
         with the sweat that fills your bed

             Her names Poetic Justice
                her poison is my pen
          and you might be quite terrified
               while I am feeling Zen

           Of course you know that she
         is best when she's served cold
          to keep you all the company
            you need when you are old

        Now your life is crumbling down
         from wicked lies that past those lips

               It wasn't even a challenge
                      for these poetic
                        ....    fingertips

Cherie Nolan © All Rights Reserved 2016