[Serpentine Whore]

‘Round and ’round we go
where I slice, only one will know –

She crawls near my shadow to pray,
beckoning forgiveness–begging empathy.
I gaze expressionless at her staggered act,
then stoke my pit of coals while my sympathy falls slack.
The submission to insanity, intrigues me.
Her stained verse is stacked for a delusional deity,
but my pithy greed is a curse she’ll always seek, or is it need?

Hmm . . .
Stand, serpentine whore!
I chain her to the wall of my sick illusion,
I grin, admiring the end of my branding rod, aglow.
She’ll learn the price for treason.

Turn your eyes from me, voiceless fiend.
I have your tongue for my pleasure only.
For agony, you will give your measure.

(Against her ass I press my rod and hold it)

I won’t release until I smell her flesh melting.
Now all can see, you belong to me, whore!

Weeping is a lost art.

© 2015 blue angel