Once upon a time
Succumbing to beauty was a man’s undoing
No longer his prime
Succubus – she had, yes, her own plans a-brewin’
Beneath the charred soil
Only cinders left
Behold the scarred soul
Now of life bereft
There was a man who was once king
Yet did not on his head have a crown
To this dainty belle did he cling
She rarely upon him laid a frown
Still, a ring was of great import
To adorn, y’see, a slender limb
Never you mind la petite mort
Such is the need, need to be prim
A flickering stone
The child’s sent cavorting
It’s an ice-dream cone
Old plans ain’t for thwarting
There was a man who was once king
Succumbing to beauty was the man’s undoing
To this dainty belle did he cling
Succubus – she had, yes, her own plans a-brewin’
Indeed senseless of him, he was aware
Strive to assert his ever shaking ground
Her scent, skin… lights were dim… — why even dare
Better to mind the gorgeous naked mound
This man’s no more a king, that is for sure
Closer to a fool he is, and that’s a fact
His reasoning was, well, downright obscure
How did he, really, expect her to react?
There was a man
Who was once
King
Succumbing to beauty
Was the man’s
Undoing
To this dainty belle
Did he
Cling
Succubus – she had, yes,
Her own plans
A-brewin’