Her Majesty, The Sorceress

He lay there on his stomach, listening with dread
Young and lean and motionless in bed
She waited in the dark until the palace slept
Then out of her chamber she secretly crept
His pulse picked up pace; his breath came shorter
Playing in his mind, her ominous laughter
Through halls and stairways like a mischievous child
She moved as a feline, her eyes burning wild
His mind was racing with thoughts of the past
He could never predict what spells she would cast
She imagined his shock, the sweat on his skin
His innocent face, it made her grin
He gripped his pillow and tensed up with fear
Her approaching steps was all he could hear
The door to her playground, she passed through unseen
Her presence undeniable, aura of the queen
Though the door had not opened, he felt she was there
He looked cautiously but saw her nowhere
She’d already transformed and was quietly staring
She waited for the moment he turned to the ceiling
He froze when he looked, shocked by the sight
Of hundreds of gargoyles, like bats poised for flight
They attacked in a frenzy, grabbing and groping
They tickled and nibbled, pinching and poking
He moaned in spasms, hopelessly trapped
He twisted and turned, giggled and gasped
His trembling body, it excited her much
She probed his flesh, savoring each touch
He felt both tortured and pleasured blind
A toy in her game to satisfy her mind
Her majesty, the sorceress, would endlessly crave
To drink and devour for hours her slave