What sayeth thee when faced with life's perogative?
In happenstance, cruel fate doth force to choose betwixt,
Risking capture by vile lord for love provocative,
Or freedom of the forest glen; in cauldron mixed,
A devil's brew, tempting thy thirst with honeyed mead,
Forever quench thy love-parched lips in ecstasy,
Feast on Eros' banquet, sate thy every need,
Yet unbeknownst, the depth lord's poisoned lance t'will be,
Is maiden fair, love's Seraphim from welkin high,
Or Lucifer, seeking eternal damnation,
Of thy immortal soul; what doth her love belie
In thy capture, will thee meet with thy salvation?
In still of night, with stealth doth broach yon castle wall,
While on lord's rack, in pain for Seraphim doth call.
[This message has been edited by Tim (edited 08-30-99).]