Der ewige Madchen.

-

 Can you smell it?

The sugary sweet scent?

Billowing so seductively.

None could hope, so vainly

All attempts to flee are futile.

None shall digress from. 

her majesty:

The Lady of the Lake.


Fervently she spake,"You are

ensnared in my spell."

Nigh, I say. I will be not

your helpless slave.

I refuse, your charms have

no effect her witch.


"You can not hope to know 

mine power. O' weary traveller."

My name has brushed the tongue

and lips of all man.

Far and wide, of every land.

And you, silly lad.

Shant be the first

Certainly, you will not be the

last.

To hopelessly aquire, such an

comedic request.

To slovenly think

You could hope to flee from

The eternal desire

The fog and fire of:

Hot Dog Water

O' weary traveller.....

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