Came for… me

broken cass statue

When night came for

innocence, I turned my head to the right,

for I thought to keep it out of sight.

 

When cold-steel claimed

naivety, well… I buried each scream in song;

for wrought in melody

can anything be

entirely wrong.

 

When the bitter winds stole

surety, why… I turned my trembling to hate;

for only then did it truly abate.

 

But when the shadows consumed

sweetness, when not even an ounce of it did survive,

why… twas then darlin’… La Fée came alive.

 

 

 

La Fée

08/20/2018

©  Odyne La Fée 2018

One thought on “Came for… me

  1. “She was mysterious in a Southern gothic way. Like Faulkner and Wolfe, she held my attention like no other. She was smooth and silky like the finest bourbon. She was rough and raw like a Hank Williams ballad. There was something about the way that she held herself. She had a sensual grace. She was not defined by what people saw in her. The quality of her words and deeds was arousing, appealing, drawing.”

    Like

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