Allegro Conspirito: Donna Webber-Adams

In the darkest recesses of my soul,
wicked witches commence to brew noxious potions
and declaim fiendish diabolical curses;
and spirited demons, bathing in hell fires, rise up
to avenge the heart of my heart, pierced by the bow of a malevolent spirit.
Hope springs eternal that
otherworldly voices of the damned, duplicitous, scornful and mocking
and ethereal apparitions of thirsty vultures and naked skeletons
afflict your feeble minds for eternity
and malicious hobgoblins sting, nettle and prick your blackened heart
mercilessly
and El Diablo ascends from the caverns of hell with a shroud of fire
to claim your ignominious soul.
Dance, dance with the devil’s disciples
Allegro Conspirito
to the tune of the Puppeteer.
Sleep on a bed of ashes and embers,
drink rancid wine and eat poisoned apples
and sing a song of repentance.
Truth be told,
This was not a good relationship.