SARTAN : Valnurana, sweet and fair,
Goddess of Disheveled Hair,
So tightly held within My trance,
And senseless to My slow advance.

How pleasant Thou didst happen by,
Thy diplomatic ploys to ply,
But this is war, My pretty foil,
And to Thy victor goes Thy spoil.

Kneel, My pet, before Mine throne,
Of twisted steel and gleaming bone,
My supplicant, if stupefied,
Thy parted lips so well applied.

Enow! Methinks Thou too intense!
And lest Our ending soon commence,
Loose Thy maw and still Thy lung,
And curb Thine over-eager tongue!

Enow! Enow! Thou greedy cow!
Thine energy We must avow,
Oh fie! Thou wanton, wasted space,
Wear My disfavour on Thy face.

Thy cheek and brow, so pearly white,
Are marred by orbs unfit for sight,
So squinty, porcine o'er Thy snout,
Prithee, Goddess, pluck them out.

Huzzah! Ne'er lived more handsome mares,
Now rescued from Thy vacant stares,
Behold Thy countenance divine,
So what was Yours becometh Mine.




SARAPIS : And so the Lord didst laugh aloud,
And so He stood, aloft and proud,
And so did Sartan's eye survey,
That ripest fruit, unwilling prey.


SARTAN : Join with Me, I so command,
I bid My beguiled Goddess stand,
Deliver that which Thee might wield,
And bend as beasts on yonder field.

Magnificence, so rarely viewed,
And wouldst Thou think Me very lewd,
If I upon Thy form might gaze,
And save the sight for future days?

VALNURANA! Let Thou wake!
As in Thy sweeter meats I slake,
Cry out! Grace Me with Thy scream!
With severed eyes behold My dream!


SARAPIS : So Valnurana knew Her lot,
By Sartan's hand Her get was got,
And had She tears She might have cried,
As His Malevolence arrived.

Tears of blood would run instead,
In ruddy rivers, Her noble head,
Did hangeth low and gulp for breath,
Whilst Sartan sought His little death.

And in the privacy released,
At last His rapine plunder ceased,
With gauntlet balled within Her hair,
The Lord didst cast Her from His lair.





Penned by my hand on the 6th of Mayan, in the year 553 AF.