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Yesterday I started to write. No big deal, right? However, it was poetry. I never write poetry!

Anyway, here 'tis

The other night I dreamt of fiery smouldering eyes.

I viewed them as any man would, fully willing to die.

A voice came to me in the dark, as sweet as any belle.

It whispered seductively in my ear, the sound of my own death knell.

The whispers scampered through the night, the muttering turned insane.

The man who saw stumbled off, clutching himself in pain.

I wrenched away from the voice, falling to the floor.

The voice stalked me softly, promising evermore.

I sank into the earth, welcoming the cold, dark embrace.

The voice followed me, happily giving chase.

I ran through the fire, skin bubbling as it glowed.

The voice followed me, flaming as if it didn't know.

I dived into the water, drowning to its delight.

The voice followed me, always keeping me in sight.

I sat and hid in a cloud, hoping I wouldn't be found.

The voice followed me, as relentlessly as any born hound.

I cried and hugged my knees in tight, shouting "Why? Why do you hunt me like this?"

The voice stopped and looked at me, "Why, just to give you a kiss!"

"Kiss and begone, you damnable thing!"

The voice came in, "Anything for my king."

I awoke then, sweating in the night

I wondered if the voice had kissed me, would it be eternal sleep or delight?

Slainte!

John-Boy