|
Sister midnight comes blaspheming |
|
Screaming in the keys of faith and fear |
|
Unentwining, our spines twists me to kneeling |
|
Spilling like the moonlight on her glistening rear |
|
Defiled at heart in this perfect hell |
|
Under red leaves bleeding over scaled chateau we fell |
|
To demonocracy, where neither |
|
Adam or Eve |
|
Conceived of such iniquities from pleasure or pain |
|
Or the razor's edge in between |
|
Thou art my seventh heaven burning |
|
Going down as with the sun |
|
Within like a river fluids moves a torrent |
|
Bound to please on denierred knees |
|
In any wicked way that her whims may warrant |
|
I hang on every verb, every dirty word, interred |
|
In her pornoglossa, |
|
Christlike, whipped and weak |
|
Painted nails driven through the meek |
|
Yet in obituary, my dreams still weep |
|
Of dark blood and ****ing thee |
|
Thou art my seventh heaven burning |
|
Going down as with the day |
|
Baring lunar curvature like canvas for a lick of pain |
|
Writhing like a viper deep inside her |
|
EdenForbidden to eat, |
|
I kiss leylines to her feet |
|
Then baiting wrath, |
|
I steal a path |
|
Back to the fruits of her womb |
|
Back to the crack of her tomb |
|
Her roseate sliver quivers with snuff appeal |
|
The torque of her hips, lip-sync me in for the kill |
|
Tongue-tied, tightrope and spread like disease |
|
I drain the cup of this |
|
Miss Sire, her water into wine for me |
|
Thou art my seventh angel squirming' |
|
Neath the forked tongue of the beast |
|
Arching toward the fabled |
|
Like a sculptured nymph seeking base relief |
|
Whilst the world outside |
|
A wood of suicide |
|
Would die for this release |
|
Our slow orgasmic fuses greet |
|
By night and by candle at each other's throat |
|
In a slick drift of red, setting |
|
God's teeth on edge |
|
We were as wolves preying inside the fold |
|
Of a slaughtered lamb throw on a four poster bed |
|
Succulent, |
|
SuccubusLaid without rest |
|
In the dead of the night |
|
Succulent, |
|
SuccubusIn thy arms and thy wetness |
|
On glossed lips |
|
I tasteConspiracies, secrecies, sorceries laced |
|
With thick unguent rum, black-rayed suns and autumn |
|
Always in season for our nightfall from grace |
|
Gorge upon my seed |
|
Starved Persephone |
|
Succulent, |
|
SuccubusThat |
|
I might keep |
|
Thee with me in |
|
HadesSucculent, |
|
SuccubusSuccour me |
|
Succulent, |
|
SuccubusSuccour me |
|
Succulent, |
|
SuccubusSucculent, |
|
Succubus[Incomprehensible] |
