Kest came back to haunt me,
Her words both sweet and sure.
Cloying clinging poison,
Her twisted truth the lure.
Crouching in her corner,
My joyous gleeful sprite,
Begging my forgiveness,
So harmless in the light
Dark and deadly shadow
As soon as night-time fell.
She smiled at me and cackled
Hear the tolling bell.
She told tales of hate and dying
And love to chill the bones.
Power games for mind fucks,
Terrors faced alone
I watched in vivid detail as
She shone and whet the knife,
Felt the burning ice of pain
As death embittered life.
With deadly deft and agile cuts,
She tore my heart to shreds.
Made mincemeat of my vanity
And stained my tears red.
Through crimson haze I laughed aloud,
A crazy whirling dance.
Dull and drear was sanity
As I cast my soul to chance.
Through the roar of falling,
I shrieked my freedom songs.
Exalt my heart in fear and pain,
The knife edge knows no wrong
And then my thane he turned to me,
He too caught in her spell,
He bathed my wounds in salt and bile
And swept us both to hell
And then he held me tenderly,
Chased my sprite away,
Banished all my fears and pains
To the dreams of long done days.
Night turned into morning,
Sun and sand and waves.
Despair returned to living
As I strolled among the graves.
© Fran McNicol 1992
Published 1993
