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
mantras.
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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