|Seven Veils, Seven Devils
Author: hanging on ariadne's thread PM
She who played with crowns and knives as if they were children's toys, Salome. /an attempt at rhyming patternsRated: Fiction T - English - Friendship - Words: 246 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 2 - Published: 01-12-12 - Status: Complete - id: 2987791
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Inspired by works found on DeviantArt, particularly Salome, Salome by knittingknots. Stanza size is not uniform, I know. If people do wonder why it shifts from ignorance to somewhat-omniscience is because this is told after the events passed. Kind of like the time's harper's tales.
Dance, dance, oh shining dark Salome
your jasmine perfume is intoxicating,
I cannot see the queen's game you play.
Your honey-dark ringlets, your charming Astarte smile
surely don't possess a darker evil, eh?
Hidden in silk, so cunning a girl
Dance, oh dance, for old proud me
Leaps and laughs with every twirl,
she with the honey-dark ringlets, Salome.
Kohl-lined eyes, black as midnight's pearl
- but not at all dark, I believe drunkenly.
Dance, dance, keep the sistrums dancing as in stories told
the arousal of memories from a long forgotten past
How unfair it is, she young and I old.
Your mother's urging whispers you merely ignore
Never had I seen a young girl so bold
With a graceful drop, a queen's snare you have set
Does your heart's blood run ice cold?
No longer does the young Salome dance
for she gambled with fate as she set up her gilded trap.
Never more does entice the dark-veiled glance
She young and I old is only a mirage
After all, a queen's game is that of chance,
and in the end, the rolling head was hers.