A melody for Beatrice
As he turns to see the lack of lines
Without any poise of shine
She brings to him a song of dreams
And puts his mind at ease so it seems
Satisfying a blood thirst for killing
Demons that run rampant in a thrilling
Tale of discarding ghosts, witches, and insanity
Sparda in a lustrous calamity
O'look upon his face, a devil's only disgrace
Is his weakness for salvations only grace
A young woman with pale skin, translucent
In the open light of daybreak, a voice so dulcet
She gives to him sweet honesty
No apology needed in all discovery
Black leather serving as second skin
The traces of her face so thin
Lack of lines
Without shine
Powdered in the room behind his desk
An air of ancient electricity between them
A taste here and there, do you need to ask?
Password needed to begin anew
Missions accomplished in the rains dew
Words and religion does not compute
Their battles end up in silent dispute
Lean long legs she has
So achingly sexy does she have to be so crass?
A little more fight, a little more spark
To satisfy the bullseyes mark
Straight into the perpetrators heart
So show him how to use it, Beatrice
She thinks, she acts and begins to count thrice
O'baby he cries, as he pumps two more rounds
into deadly foes to be found
Dark sunglasses against pale blond hair so long
And she doesn't even wear a thong
Thank god for miracles, cried Dante.
My mother in her prime would scold me thus,
For such attire seemed unfit.
Black leather, Black wear, was it so
Thus unseemly for the Prince of Darkness
To dress his mother's lovely image so unfairly?
Traces a line along her face
Lack of lines
Without any shine
His light fingers touch the soft spot of lips
Heat and fire between the two
Ebony and Ivory do crazy flips
In the hardness of his hands
Wielding Alastor and Force edge
A wet dream to a demons imagined land
Words of wisdom have no meaning
In the light of day
Have they nothing to say?
Traces along her celebrated face
Nothing in the way of lines
Without a decent shine
Without a doubt she comes to him
Every day when dusk thins
Let me show you how baby, he chokes
Flipping his mighty sword out in multiple strokes
O'come on this is her borrowed devil hunter
The lines on her face were none
Her hips descending in the open thunder
Giving her demon a run for his money
Satisfaction sounds so funny
To describe the plain and simple truth
Could he ever be so uncouth?
O'never never she sighs
A melody for Trish, Singing like Alastors sparks
Blue-white heat in the glowing dark
And the traces along her face
made by his fingers
Refining no disgrace
Her lack of lines
A kiss on Beatrice without any shine
The sounds of scribbling could be heard, shattering Dante's dream, waking to see Lady sitting at the small desk by their window, making those scribbling noises.
"Lady" Dante groans and is half awake now, his eyes straining to open and attempts to wipe the sleep off his eyes.
"Hmmm..yeah?" Lady continues to scribble.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Writing a poem."
"Huh?" fully awake now, he sits up on the bed, naked, the blanket covering his most sensitive parts.
Walking over to his lover, he looks over her shoulder to read. "A poem….eh, hmm, a little strange and naughty even."
"Stop reading it, I'm not done!" Lady smacks her hand down the piece of paper she was working on, making a loud noise, startling Dante a pace back.
"Okay okay, geez, so sensitive! But come on, Lady, its 5am. I still have a couple hours before I wake again. Come back to bed, hmmm?" coaxing her with a murmur against her Ebony hair, he kisses her neck for more persuasion, "I'll make it worth your while"
"What? You'll let me choose the next set of demons we fight? I get first dibs?" Lady raises an eyebrow.
"Something better" Dante raises both eyebrows and grins.
"I doubt it." Her eyes half closes, and then walks as if she were in a dream trance towards the bed leaving her pages of half written poetry lying atop the desk, the wind picking up from the window to blow them into the chilly atmosphere outside, towards the morning sky.
The last bits of ink plastered on the Ivory sheet, with words of love and the future uncertain…
