Entropy Emma

she strung them knotted matter coils,
some sprinkled vintage flair
when Emma modeled entropy
in a honed state, self-aware.

queen of queens, infallible steel,
the wealth of the world willing to share,
she'd drown in blood 'fore pigs would win:
a testament to her care.

we'd walk the forest's winter moons.
braving the icy cold,
we'd murmur tales amongst her gales
about prophecies untold.

her resilience was masterful,
her primed endurance bold.
wisdom aplenty, spared unto others,
she lived to drown the mold.

yet Emma became their fisherman
or so they say over there.
they claim pure innocence under God,
it was her that made them stare.

“hooking eyes, a baited tackle,
a succubus so rare...”
though I don't believe their words for a second
nor a decade, I don't care!

but yes, Emma is my muse,
not something to be sold.
not the bleary mouse to the garden snake's fangs,
an old friend who never grew old -

(the framework skeleton's rotting,
speaking volumes, brimming bold.
a loosely done-in friendship
of dirt and grime and mold.)