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The scent grows richer, he knows he must be near, |
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He finds a long passageway lit by chandelier. |
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Each step he takes, the perfumes change |
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From familiar fragrance to flavours strange. |
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A magnificent chamber meets his eye. |
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Inside, a long rose-water pool is shrouded by fine mist. |
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Stepping in the moist silence, with a warm breeze has gently kissed. |
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Thinking he is quite alone, |
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He enters the room, as if it were his own, |
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But ripples on the sweet pink water |
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Reveal some company unthought of. |
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Rael stands astonished doubting his sight, |
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Struck by beauty, gripped in fright. |
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Three vermilion snakes of female face, |
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The smallest motion, filled with grace. |
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Muted melodies fill the echoing hall, |
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But there is no sign of warning in the sirens call: |
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Rael welcome, we are the Lamia of the pool. |
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We have been waiting for our waters to bring you cool. |
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Putting fear beside him, he trusts in beauty blind, |
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He slips into the nectar, leaving his shredded clothes behind. |
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With their tongues, they test, taste and judge all that is mine. |
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They move in a series of caresses |
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That glide up and down my spine. |
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As they nibble the fruit of my flesh, I feel no pain, |
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Only a magic that a name would stain. |
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With the first drop of my blood in their veins |
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Their faces are convulsed in mortal pains. |
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The fairest cries, We all have loved you Rael. |
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Each empty snakelike body floats, |
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Silent sorrow in empty boats. |
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A sickly sourness fills the room, |
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The bitter harvest of a dying bloom. |
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Looking for motion I know I will not find, |
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I stroke the curls now turning pale, in which Id lain entwined |
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O Lamia, your flesh that remains I will take as my food |
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It is the scent of garlic that lingers on my chocolate fingers. |
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Looking behind me, the water turns icy blue, |
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The lights are dimmed and once again the stage is set for you. |
