Epic Gothic tale
A somewhat artist friend of mine asked me stately meet to dine
And sure enough without no quiver a horse drawn carriage had delivered
Me from ones abode so cold draped my shoulders cloak of bold
And unsurprised by candle light the carriage master cracked a strike
The two strong steeds did quickly carry
My bones and skin were yet to marry
Over cobbled roads then tracks
The city lights had faded black
Snorting nostrils flailed saliva
Relentless whip cracks braced the driver
Headlong fast grazed open fields
We race toward Lord Manderbeels
As two makes one as one makes right it often takes the chance that might
We share alone our own appraisal and fortune dine at others tables
When chance arose and of thine breast a nervous beating filled my chest
As if…
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