Nine Turning Mirrors
by Peter Loaf

Nine Turning Mirrors By Peter Loaf Nine Turning Mirrors, the Grand Vizier
Walking through palace, his evil near
Hung up and waiting
A trap theyíre baiting
The Rebelís daughters, screaming in fear

Their fatherís rescue, their only chance
Naked and helpless, barely a glance
Vizier proceeding
Useless their pleading
Hung up and hurting, his plans advance

The bait is waiting, the trap is set
A fatherís duty, a risky bet
The hero seeking
The passage sneaking
The guards instructed, the hero let

Hanging inverted, from hands and feet
Vizier perverted, helpless complete
Her sex is swollen
Plug in her colon
Point of their screaming, fatherís defeat

The palace guarded, ten times the men
The walls deserted, welcome within
The hero climbing
The careful timing
The gates thrown open, attack begin

Archers in hiding, the gray goose flies
The rebels falling, short of the prize
Cavalry cutting
Escape rebutting
The hero slipping, the father dies

Nine Turning Mirrors, watching tower
The revolt finished, drunk with power
The Kingdom is his
The bubble and fizz
Hero appearing, Vizier cower

Three pounds of spiky, swung on a chain
Hands up defenseless, splattering brain
The guards reacting
Their threat subtracting
The tower quiet, the spreading stain

The orders issued, the Vizierís voice
The guards releasing, the morsels choice
To tower bringing
To blankets clinging
Heirs to the kingdom, people rejoice

Nine Turning Mirrors