Of rats Part I
It was of rats, in fact,
the tiny little bodies they had.
Saw them first inside my cradle,
when I wasn't yet their bride.
They played me an opera;
of mist and midnight skies,
of passion bleeding.
It was of rats, in fact
the phantom in the looking glass.
Found myself in their embrace,
at a graveyard in moonlight.
They showed me a dance;
of love and for those who died,
of hurt and virtue.
It was of rats, in fact,
how they once were man.
Recognized myself in their tails,
when I saw their deceiving eyes.
They gave me a glimpse;
of lust and pleasant delights,
of a scarlet witch.
Anita©