Shielded in a force field cacophony of Peter Griffin’s laughter and a baseline dirge

with LED’s set on level Epileptica

the giant slumbers; he does not open an eye.

Hidden amidst his landscape of tissues, Lynx and Lucozade;

this is where childhood comes to die.

 

There once was a hand held tightly to the shops,

there was once a cartoon hero and kite making,

then he was transformed into something strange you dare not disturb;

this is where the story is set at a higher rating.

 

Emerging from two hours in water- proving she floats-

she slithers past in a gothic slick of raven hair and bone china,

resembling the girl from The Ring, but less approachable;

this is the annihilation of a minor.

 

Nails like daggers stab at shoes she desires online,

she didn’t ask to be born, but since you brought her into this hell

she will terrorise your psyche until she is provided for;

this is where a child’s magic becomes a witch’s spell

 

In the mum scrum of dogs and kitten and cushions

I dream that one day we’ll again be together,

free from the curse and far from the dungeons;

because dragons you see, they last forever…