Princess Avarice

on the last seat

in the last cabin

of the last train –

Lo! she sat

still – in solitary – far back in blackness –

amongst ghosts; not strange to the final hour of 24:

men and their horses

– donned in dark suits and gold cuffs –

partake in ’tis passage

— long — O! —

she breathes in

the air in their carry-ons (and smiles)

as they enter the last cabin of the last train

that shall trek through the Pitch Wetlands

and all its creaks and creases —

with all its tattooed barricades —

cleverly inter-knitted barb-wires and



soulless skeletons

and creatures born from shadow — her guardians!

guardians of the Caged Kingdom

rise from rest and

unleash her zenith now!

tick tock

tick tock strike of midnight [enter Death: mark her plight] inhabitants of the night;

bringers of malaise

welcome her arrival!

those horses

those men

(’tis her accompaniment)

thrown into worn-out throne-rooms

captured by Time;

onto silent waters of red and their bloodied bodies shall form a pathway

into the residence of dear, dear Apate.

originally published: 23 Nov 2015

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