Hey everyone! I love taking a creative approach to the angst from Constance as regards Mistress Broomhead. This is a poem about that. Reviews appreciated. Thanks in advance for reading. xD
The Haunt:
I have nowhere to hide
Because of rules I abide
When the lights are turned low
I have nowhere to go
The door shatters open
And in walks the fiend
Her evil stare's groping
My dreams are demeaned.
Her thin breath a shrill
When she's in for the kill
My hope distills
When she's dressed in death's frills
This is my secret
That I need to tell
I, cursed by a dark maiden
Am still living in hell.
And once she was in
Wearing an evil grin
Under Georgian door pillars
Worked as my distiller
And my dreams eluded
While I stood and brooded
Thus I had concluded
To be forever secluded
Now I'm drowning in black
And there's no turning back
My spirit is dampened
From the tears I've not cried
My soul has been dyed
From that bitch evil's bride
And behind my tall stride
Is just a soul cast aside