As the dim moonlight slices the midnight sky
Cutting through the double panes of glass
Landing on the corner of my parchment and pen
Will this be the midnight oil that brings the writing fairies?
Or a darker, sinister night of the venomous inscription demons?
Will the pen dance and dazzle the pages below?
Dripping ink magically into perfect prose
Or spiral and spin a web of twisted debauchery
Only time will tell in the art of darkness
Don’t be silly, you fool
Of course, it is the latter.
Sugarplum fairies and magic angelic beings
Do not live and dance by the dark moonlight.
The long, slender shadows cast in the moon’s rays
The derelict witches of darkness dance in the pale moonlight
Poisoning my pen and polluting my parchment
It will be another night of sinful and sinister prose.