Seven students

Manticore and tentacles, oh
Bless my soul
Under this bridge of evil here I stand
Not a drop of blood but ten.
Master please do forbid my being,
For now across from me she slings.
She cackles, she exclaims, she lashes.
Hair by hair, upon and across the stormy sky.
Seven made it alive, the other twenty dead.
Her head knows no pain from the uprooting.
Heavens, oh, what'd I done?
A bald Medusa, oh, which world am I in?

The leading reptile slithers, a dragon in the dark, its tail a torch of genetic red
Beta reptile glides skywards, hiss, hiss! It sets itself on fire.
Pet of the Moon comes up third, skin pale as master.
The fourth strand catches up, skin a glowing sword of flora sap. A camouflage out of place.
Fifth, single descendant of Blue Blood. Creature of the fallen.
Creeping up behind, a rope invisible in the night sky. Ghostly, occult, vapor of poison.
Last strand of hair she plucks out. The devil of the devils. Child of blood and blue moon.

The seven students take their places,
A stitch across the horizon, ruler of both.

Master, oh, what are we to do, now
That the cursed bridge has risen?
Humans underneath it, you shan't step a toe across, never!
That desperate bald woman there, at the end of the bridge,
Tamper with, do not, ever!
For in the blink of a donkey eye, she might shrink you into a pole so straight you wail,
And for the last couple days of your life, you will play a cane for those seven students.