The Countess Close
The violet tress of clover blossom,
marks the countess' winter solemn.
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love scene act 2
Love scene act 2 from script
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The Poet
I sing songs to memories.
Some tunes triumphant,
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Will I be somber?
Will your skin be smooth,
and silky as I think?
Will the nights last long,
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Heavy lids; burning eyes
no more chance of getting high.
Dreams both start but don't sound
as carriage carts drag on cobble stones.
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My Reform School
Sharks want blood.
They drink in the flavor.
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You are a myth
and every day
your father and I write
your mythology.
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A Tyrant's Respondent
If a tyrant has no power;
then tease him.
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She assassin smooth and sultry,
moves through the night air so swiftly,
long legs in the shadows moves,
take your last breath away smooth.
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