Monday, 7 March 2011


Through the dark tunnels of her labyrinth
I trudge, draggind my
sack over the flagstones.

Then I reach her.

She's on her throne, leering, bloated as a leech.

Kneeling, I offer the sack where
I've laid the very last shreds of
my dignity,

'My lady,' I whisper
'Your dinner.'

writing and photo/artwork by Lisa Falzon.

No comments:

Post a Comment

I need to moderate comments to reduce spam, so they mightn't appear instantly.. thanks so much for leaving a message :)