His head buryied within

The breasts of a lunatic

Full, though aging mounds they were

He pretended to weep

But sighed in relief

Much to the motherly joy of her

She lifted his face from her chest with her hands

And prayed on his last ditch desire

Let's take a match, to this, my husband's house

And warm ourselves in the fire

At last he thought, at last a chance

To vacate my dismal past

But the beautiful lunatic's mind was mercurial

Her fire lust did not last

It switched to flesh lust

She stripped herself and opened her sheets to him

He spun in his shoes, gambling to lose

A tremble, throbbing and grim

OH-0HH!

He was not the last to quit her

As he retired to his room

For she came calling

All a shiver, stood over him in the gloom

Her nakedness hovered and steamed in the cold

A threatning glow on her scarred corpus

How, he thought, has she gotten so old

And balanced this wisdom and imbalance

Hey-AH!