N: Tranced at The Enchantress' Entrance
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They stood, entranced, at the entrance to the Temple of the Enchantresses
A virtual army of pocket rockets, standing to attention with their sacks locked and loaded, weapons at the ready to do her bidding.
A voice came from the skies above them, so high they couldn't see the mouth from whence they came.
The soulja boys had grown from the seeds spat out by those less grateful than The Enchantress.
The Enchantress wasted not, and wanted not even when she was wanton.
She wore a cross upon her chest to commemorate the thousands of unknown souljas who sacrificed their chance of a bigger life in worship of the curves and texture of The Temple, and many determined mountaineers had suckled at the Rosey peaks of those wondrous globes.
None were left wanting by the Wanton Enchantress, but the addiction was insidious, and most lost sheep returned to her flock of their own accord eventually for a second taste of the Amber nectar that flowed so freely when the levels of worship at the temple were found to be in the Goldilocks Zone.
SHe was the dreamer of dreams
The schemer of schemes
The doggedly determined detective
Santa(na)'s little helper
The connector of dots
A Doctor of dots
A Fair "E" God
Mother in disguise
With diamonds.
"Ok my little pocket rockets" said the voice from above. The time has come, no talking now, we've covered many things. So pull together everyone! For the White Christmas of my dreams!"
They stood, entranced, at the entrance to the Temple of the Enchantresses
A virtual army of pocket rockets, standing to attention with their sacks locked and loaded, weapons at the ready to do her bidding.
A voice came from the skies above them, so high they couldn't see the mouth from whence they came.
The soulja boys had grown from the seeds spat out by those less grateful than The Enchantress.
The Enchantress wasted not, and wanted not even when she was wanton.
She wore a cross upon her chest to commemorate the thousands of unknown souljas who sacrificed their chance of a bigger life in worship of the curves and texture of The Temple, and many determined mountaineers had suckled at the Rosey peaks of those wondrous globes.
None were left wanting by the Wanton Enchantress, but the addiction was insidious, and most lost sheep returned to her flock of their own accord eventually for a second taste of the Amber nectar that flowed so freely when the levels of worship at the temple were found to be in the Goldilocks Zone.
SHe was the dreamer of dreams
The schemer of schemes
The doggedly determined detective
Santa(na)'s little helper
The connector of dots
A Doctor of dots
A Fair "E" God
Mother in disguise
With diamonds.
"Ok my little pocket rockets" said the voice from above. The time has come, no talking now, we've covered many things. So pull together everyone! For the White Christmas of my dreams!"
8 years ago
