Temptation's Dance (an epic)

One summer eve a dark lover came into his sterile room,
She waited in the purple glow, there in the twilight gloom.
She bared her breast to tempt him forth, to his waiting doom,
The three fates cackle as they weave a shroud upon time's living loom.

A golden knot that binds him to then and times to come.
A history of familial ties and tales of where he's from.
The rich tapestry of a learned soul that death would soon strike dumb,
Tying the string of fate, upon the harp, that a goddess's fingers strum.

"Be mine," she said, as the wind whipped through the black tendrils of her hair.
"You're worthy of my attention," she hissed, "Come with me to my lair."
Too late he'd realized that this warped answer to his prayer,
Was a serpent, dark and sinuous, and not the asked for maiden, fair.

Could one observe the sordid scene without placing needless blame?
How could you see the twisted sight and later, be the same?
He sold his soul for other than treasure, not time nor love nor fame.
He sold his soul for pittance, he lost it in a game.

"A wager," he begged, "I cannot just go. 'Tis my life you seek to take,
"I've got loves to love and songs to sing and promises to break.
"Give me a chance to sate my hunger. Unless you fear to make,
"A wager on a worthless soul. If not, I see you're fake."

She answered with an evil grin, a sharp-fanged, vicious smile,
"I have but one condition, if we journey your offered mile,
"I only have this sweet midnight, so we can only play a while..."
She licked her lips and breathed a sigh and focused all her guile.

"A wager," she said, "We'll play a game! Not cards or games of chance,
"I'll use my talent to win your soul. My talent in the dance."
Her eyes lit up with demon fire and he looked at her askance,
"Oh, yes, dear man! Be concerned. Death waits there, with his lance."

"Watching the dance, will be your part, in our bit of fun,
"If I cannot make you respond, well, then I guess you've won.
"But you must remember to claim your prize before the rising sun.
"And grant me that I have 'til then, before our wager's done."

"If I should win, I have your soul, to do with what I will.
"The converse is true, if you should win, of me you take your fill."
He sat there stunned a moment, and worked the odds until,
He nodded in agreement, if he lost, he'd pay the bill.

"Now watch!" She hissed and rolled her hips in the the rhythm of the beat,
She slipped her silken veils down and pressed him to his seat.
She watched him with her glowing eyes as she bared his wagered treat,
The vision of her round, milky breast was the first his eyes would meet.

She leaned down, close to his face and watched his smoke-gray eyes,
Not really thinking that with this test she'd see a stirring at his thighs,
So she twirled away and in the fog, donned a sweet, fresh, virgin guise,
But not even this would entice the man or earn his coveted sighs.

A wanton pout, on rich full lips and the offer of her kiss,
Didn't rouse emotions or the sibilant sigh of a needful lover's hiss,
She danced the dance of demons' desires and showed him what he'd miss,
If he denied his burning need and turned away from bliss.

Still he refused her victory all through her sweaty toils,
He was growing confident that he would be the reaper of the spoils.
She strived hard to enrapture him within her twisted coils,
For on the horizon of the sea the dawn's morning sunrise boils.

He gloated at the demon as he said, "I think you're mine,
"This dance is declared over and too soon the sun will shine,
"So grant me that I may drink of my passion's fruity wine,
"Give me what I've won this night. On your charms, I choose to dine."

She looked at him through her hair, hung shyly over her face,
And with an ageless style accepted his claim with an immortal grace,
She gave to him a shadowed soul, transcending time and space,
And as his seed rose through his prick she hastened hie his pace.

He poured out the darkness of his soul and claimed what was his right.
With heaving hips and grasping hands, she taught him damned delight.
The angels wept and demons crowed when they heard he'd lost the fight.
Temptation's mistress had him now, there in that pre-dawn night.

She howled to the moon and laughed with glee, humored by his look,
"My mortal dear, you've lost, you see? It's all written in time's book,
"Remember that I have 'til dawn? That's the wager that you took.
"With pleasure I feel your response and now you're on my hook."

So, mortal men, please listen closely, to my urgent plea,
When a temptress dances lewd, dark lust and bends down at your knee,
Don't think you've won when she tells of her love, you haven't. Don't you see?
Turn away and run and don't look back. Hurry, quickly. Flee!