I lie in long hair that's like the cream fleece of a sheep.
Fog at the window, swirling through darkness deep.
Dressed in lace-yoked gown, demure with frills.
Knowing that I look chaste, show virginal thrills.
Clouds eclipse the moon that's portenting full.
Blackness, then more shadows follow a lull.
Slowly, my eyelids flutter, but, I'm asleep;
"Jesus, please, this night, my soul to keep".
What taps now at the window; who lurks there?
A wandering graveyard ghost, or tree branch bare?
Bliss now overtakes me, long do I feel,
songs of admiration over me steal.
My dark lord is here; I know, should I wake,
he will leave, this drowsing ecstasy take;
this sense that he wants me, full and all;
all my body, and my soul to thrall.
I am Beauty; she must have her Beast!
Kiss me, then there'll be the wedding feast!
Though I fear him, I fear loneliness more!
I am ripe for love, true love of yore!
I lie in long hair that's like the cream fleece of a sheep.
In purest white and ruffles, feigning sleep.
Ravished by euphoric fantasy dreams.
Not woken by the morning's piercing screams.
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