A Song Sung In Fever Dreams

He heard her song through fever dreams
such cryptic cries, such haunting lulls
He could feel his mind splitting far and wide
Under a voice schooled in shattering skulls.

He twisted and ached
His body in sweat.
He tried to scream
He begged to forget.

Yet while his form laid in the physical
His mind traversed a realm unknown
Where upon there sat a pale queen,

Marble white upon a scarlet throne.

With his conscious held intact
With all his senses caught in awe
He tried to make sense of that dream,
But quickly panicked to all he saw.

Such sight and sounds
With this demon queen
Sitting high above

Beginning to sing.

He knew this song heard once before.
It calmed his panic, she caught his ear.
Where some see beauty, a bard sees naught
It’s song and verse that he holds dear.

She sang that song with voice unequaled.
He knew right then what she sought of him.
From within his cloak he drew a flute
And played along that seraphim.

Notes no man
Could ever know.
He played them true,
Quiet and slow.

She sang with grace, he played with pride

They played for all the ghosts and dead
And when he lowered his ebony flute

“You will be mine”, was all she said.