Addis I I Poem by Cherie Mort

Addis, the adder with poison so bitter
Brother wears his crown; his kingdom's all ash and litter
But once in awhile he'll find things that glitter
While gentle moth wings softly flutter and flitter

Smoke clings to your vestments and libations of wine
Your queen's eyes shine brightly like carbuncle mines
And souls waiting patiently stand in a line
To enter this necropolis

This haven of hearts and of flesh, blood, and bone
Is all safeguarded in a garden of stone
Which all but a few leave well enough alone
A silent, undisturbed place of rest

The owl hoots and the crow, it caws
Calling souls to their graves and a trial of laws
To confess every one of their sins and their flaws
Spun by Fates on a fortune-wheel

Another day follows another long night
The maggots and earthworms are snuggled in tight
Nestled in a fleshy and fatty delight
To devour and decompose

And you, good King Addis, will soon close your gates
The souls at the entrance still patiently wait
The Reaper stands drooping, sleep locked in his pate
And slumber soon overtakes your eyes