My Drunken Dee

Fill my barrel’s a thousand rum!
I hoped she told of real false tales,
If so she be my faith for gone!
Alas, her words I couldn’t believe.

“Witnessed, have ye, O’ Terror Shee?
Here Be ‘er Drinking Dragons!
Breathing fire, Olde Cold Undire,
Beginning in dusks of ancient lands…”

She told me feverish, jubilant dreams.
Cajoled by bubbly intoxications,
We joined our mouths with hoarse-sung songs,
Nascence of sweet sweet Yika-rii.

“–and so Milady was cursed unborn,
Alone, Milady, she walked forlorn…
But luck! It smiles upon her truth,
She came upon the Daughter-Geist!

‘Pretty-art-thou, I pray to thee.
If not for whom, then pray for me.'”

Her hands, she moved around my chest,
Wonder if it ever made around my chest.

I thought I knew where worlds will go,
Yet, what she showed…

Her hands waved to and fro,
Like a magician’s wand,
Nascence of sweet sweet Yika-rii.