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Welcome to the joyous carnival of passion |
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Where the mind surrenders to the animal. |
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Smell the seductive odor of the naked skin |
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Bathed in the exotic oils, the potions of desire. |
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It would be folly to defy the eldest law |
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For resistance will only supply the fire of lust |
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With her wooden excuses. |
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We are here to drink this old wine without remorse |
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To spill the fluid of |
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Genesis In abundance because we all know |
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That as this elixir of life will flow |
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We will be left exhausted but smiling. |
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Nails sink into sweaty ground |
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Marking dionysiac stings |
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Sparks set from velvet tongues |
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That bring close soft orange lips |
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Phallic litanies |
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Paths lead inside warm nests, that scared shrines of sin |
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As serpents we crawl beneath |
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The guises that we all wear. |
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It would be folly to defy the eldest law |
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For resistance will only supply the fire of lust |
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With her wooden excuses. |
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So it will grow stronger and stronger |
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Until fatally it will consume the renegades |
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With the flames of their denied satisfaction |
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Phallic litanies |
