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SONGS & DREAMS |
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| Kidnapped by the most cunning spooks Of fabled, ancient lore, They forced me down a stairway Far beneath a moor. They dwelt in a secret labyrinth, Inaccurately vast; Tangled twisting passages, Modern, yet old and damp. The halls were long and very neat, Illuminated bright With florescent bulbs overhead; Such safe but blinding light. My captor was of average build, A man quite tall and dark; Black eyes and hair, who wore a cloak; As frightful as a shark! He stood no larger than myself, But he had great command: More than mortal, like the others, To him none raised a hand! The others seemed very busy, As if tasked in secret, Combing the halls and passing about For some unknown event. They seemed to be normal humans, Until they looked at me; Their eyes turned crazed and horrible, Aggressive and hungry. They'd attempt to steal me off, Snatching at my flesh In order to consume my blood! But Master forbade them. He seemed to have no interest In stifling me himself, Saving me instead, it seemed, for Some other kind of hell. I'd have only to clutch his cloak When others drew too near; It seemed they doubted his power, But they'd draw back in fear. I followed him to a large room Stored with supplies and junk: Some were taking inventory, Some were arranging stock. He spoke with them just briefly; I couldn't hear a word. Their language was inaudible, A ghostly tongue unheard. Apparently he made a deal To take a piece of art: An electric lamp of metal Which, like a fan, would part. And what a bulky object, That techno-Chinese work! I would tote it like a slave To show my life had worth. I studied my situation, A miserable state! How could I buy time to think of some way to escape? Could I find some paper and pen To get a message out? But, if I'd flee from Master's hand, I'd not find a safe route! He changed his mind, returned the lamp, Took a painting instead. Would I survive to live again, or would they find me dead? A terrible situation! But I did escape. I can't recall the time which passed Before I got away. Where I was and for how long Evades my memory. But they were there, of that I'm sure, And there they still must be. Yes, they're there, beneath the moors, Sinister and unseen, Plotting to trap the unwary. Take notice and take heed! |
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