The lines constructing the floor move to and fro while the hands on the clockface dance time away. The Lillend puts her masque upon her face and casts her picturesque victim dice. Laughing aloud she cries, ” Tis your turn to tripdance tonite, my love.” Then ever so silently, her feathered serpent’s skin caresses the floor playing tag against the timeclock’s tick. Ever so stealthily and into your room the Lillend comes for you.
And with her chyldish giggle she removes her masque exposing tattooed skin behind. Gives a shriek, and a wink, moving her arms in chant… the Lillend peers into your mind, to steal the seeds of dreams. While you awake, to the clock’s alarming tick, it is because of the beautiful Lillend chylde that some of your dreams slip lost between the lines of time.