Queen Marie
To my beloved sons.
Ghastly ghouls of Castelul Bran
Your queen has come by night.
A facade of human flesh she bears
Is declined by the morning light.
Alas! No hymn to ward the weary
The many at rest are a feast for Marie
She stalks about the dead of night
Instilling a chill, an unforeseen fright
Your blood may be to her delight
A feast of plenty, the less - least any
Her charm —the death of many
Until you greet dawn’s welcome might
And you will have survived your plight
If you address dawn’s glorious knight
A jest to her is your smile for living
By dawn she will have her thanksgiving
(2012)
