Three of Spades

Three of Spades

There was a soldier
Through night
with lantern did roam
Until up high,
found a castle
Did glow with the sweet
lights of home

As he beckoned
He was hoping for best
From some lovely keeper
To take him in
As one of her guests

Twas confounded though
Upon two most peevish
red imps
Saw him for one
that they knew
Of him they’d had more
than a glimpse

Imps: Yay traveller,
let us together
Merry make three
He replied:
Surely not As none have
cast as wretched as thee!
But what’s this?
In stone does grow this
enchanting small tree?
Imps riddled:
Dost thou wisheth
no more lone wanderer
to be?
He winced:
Of course,
the likes of which
Never shall be

Imps sang:
Chose the burnt leaf
From this darkened old tree
And its spirit shall bind us
Together with thee!
Bearing fruits of the Spade
No end to your love
there shall be
Hark!, with any
gentlewoman
Your power will hold them
with thee
Surely
what gives you so well
Cannot then
Of goodness it be?

The soldier took the leaf
Was raised up
to the heavens
Then struck down,
heavy in his defeat
To a decrepit castle
full of ghouls
With a thirst for blood
on their teeth