Monday, October 26, 2015

A Victorian Sort of Madness

Mason morosely muddled
about the mansion, making
mournful moans and muttering
madness over the missing
Madam Marguerite.

Marguerite, sweet Marguerite,
making her way across the misty
moors, must have meandered
and made a mistake. The
muddy marsh murdering her.

The men made a search but the
mist was too much and Madam
Marguerite was lost to the mud.
Many years moved by and
Mason still mourned.

His message of mutual matching
love made her marathon to
his side only to become embroiled
in the mysteries of Mason’s Manor
and muddy marshes.

A mourning soul possessed Mason
many a morning and he was unable
to muster any movement from his
mattress. He was too murdered by
the muddy marsh at Marguerite's loss.

He made a mandate for all the great
men of magic and mystery to make
his mansion their home and make
his Marguerite manifest through the
marble of death.

The magicians said Mason could have
her back. Through mystic forces and
modest monetary machinations, they
made voodoo, mumbo-jumbo and medieval

His Marguerite never reappeared. The mystics
made no manes  and Mason molded  
into the mortar of his mansion , forever
making eyes at the marsh that swallowed
Madam Marguerite. 

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