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The Ballad of Baremason Manor

I found myself a traveller, alone in parts unknown
A nameless foreign land, lost in strange surroundings
Blasted grassland watched by trees of blackened bone
Heavy leaden clouds, endless grey hills rolling
An isolated silhouette against the steely sky
One of a thousand formless shadow shapes
A single set of clothes, no food, no light to see by
A lost toy of the fates

Hope was fast departing, when salvation showed a light
Attracted by temptation I was drawn
To a darkened gothic castle, in the fast approaching night
Bricks from volcanoes' entrails born
Ancient sinewed vegetation embraced its granite walls
With trembled hand and trepidation I part the iron gates
I stood, the merest insect, before giant cliff-face doors
I knocked and sealed my fate

The doors creak wide like thunder, and I'm greeted by blue eyes
And elfin angel face of man not two years since a boy
Hair so blonde as almost white, skin soft as angel's sigh
He guides me in with hands like toys
With lingering touch he sheds my coat, fingers feather light
With palm at my waist he coaxes me forth
My overwhelmed senses struggle with the sights
I stand entranced, in awe

Candelabra beams golden light through a thousand crystal shards
Sumptuous carpet underfoot, underlines a baroque tableau
Adorning walls, breathtaking canvases, forgotten masters' art,
Panoramic landscapes, majestic awesome views

Before me stands a green-eyed girl, bosom rising slow
Drowning in her, like an opium dream, helpless here I stand
Auburn hair aflame with life, in candle's golden glow
She softly takes my hand

Leaning in she whispers, "What luck, you're just in time"
Like the memories of past lives, my soul recalls her scent
Coaxing me forth like an idiot child, I'm silent as a mime
Into the house we descend

I enter a room, a dining hall, an expanse as vast as air
Table long as agony's cry, luxuriant, royalty fit
Hands on my hips she eases me into the table's head chair
A glass of red is in my hands, dark as blood, I sip

I see two vacant chairs across the table's length
Mahogany rears rampant, high-backed gilded thrones
Doors at far end part, at silent thought's behest
Great oaks swing forth, reveal to me my hosts

Like king and queen they enter, and shadows part the way
From a distance of history their features clear to me
They move with a grace of drifting snow, eyes enthral my gaze
Flawless features, timeless as the sea

She, the queen, stood raven haired, midnight framing marble face
Bleach bone lace, scarlet lips, flesh a porcelain white
He, the king, with burning eyes, skin as black as space
A cloak of blood and midnight, hair like absent light

Wordless, leaving food untouched, they glide like motes of dust
Their eyes speak silent poetry, their lips a promised prayer
They raise me from my chair with motion smooth as ghosts
Soundlessly they lead me, as spiders to their lair

Drapes of crimson velvet adorn the sanctum's walls
Carpet deep as nature's eyes, soft as morning sun
And central, gaping wide like a door to other worlds
Promising temptation, the bed, four-posted, beckons

I stand a helpless rabbit, transfixed by stare of cobra
While soft as shadows, their hands traverse my form
They sweep aside defences, like ancient dusty cobweb
And clothing falls like autumn

Boudoir air caressing my skin, sensual, warming, tactile
Exposed, my skin, a victim's plight, yet cosy as a dream
Led like lamb to slaughter, their hands both light and lethal
They lay me down on silk as soft as moonbeam

The scents of rose and jasmine encircle my naked thighs
Drifting up and round my arms, like Jesus' last indulgence
Sliding up, across my chest, an ambient toying haze
I breath in their luxuriance

My hosts lay either side of me, their breath implied by absence
Their fingers, black and white, my skin a piano's keys
With practice born of centuries, they animate my senses
Blood flows like music in my veins

I am a flute, an organ, a cathedral for their performance
My ecstasy resounds, a multi layered soundscape
Like night and day they resonate, both harmony and dissonance
With maestro's touch vibrations in me escalate

Their nails scrape hairline rivulets into my pliant skin
Delicate and intricate, bloody canal-like threads
Bordered by binary colours, lips caress my veins
My neck exposed, my legs inviting, open and widespread

His night-sky fingers trace down over my thigh
Her salt-lake hands luke-warm caress my breast
In the cradle of their touch I am paralysed by desire
Like marble sculpted statues, firm against my flesh

Lips upon mine lift me, raise me with a kiss
My eager tongue explores a mouth, of whom I'll never know
As teeth, sharp and delicate as a heart surgeon's knife
Seek out my life blood's flow

The lush crimson velvets swim across my vision
Melting and blurring into the shadowy dark
My eyes see only an ocean of ruby
Vermilion waves lap a scarlet beach
Sanguine storm clouds in a sauvignon sky
Embraced, in a claret sea I let myself drown

Awake to dawn's emerging light, surprised I blinking rise
To landscape empty of human touch, devoid of civilisation
To birds' uncaring daily song, and leafless trees' soft sighs
I sit, from dream awoken

On shaking legs, reborn I slowly stand
I am lost as when I started, as then I am alone
Clothed, but chilled, and strangely drained
I resume my quest for home

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