Khia's Crusade
Saracen princess,
Blackened corridors bathed in honey hold you in high esteem as you dance in flickers, eyes raising the death toll every time you envision your body against your next casualty. It pleases me greatly.
Could you cross into that other world with me? Our souls have traversed the morning sky, searching for the cure to this hallucination, masking horripilation with lust and ambition. It would please me greatly.
I am the son of the soldier who was the grandson of a soldier who was the great-grandson of a chief. My mother tells me my grandmother believes she's a queen. It pleases me greatly.
I will bring you every world. The corridors of my heart flicker, masking the morning sky with visions of blackened soldiers, horror hollowed by a honeyed queen. You please me greatly.
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