She sits, and she’s pale and cadaverous,
her black hair, short to her chin, the dye in her skin,
the corpselike designs deify her to me,
and she is marvelous.
-
A snakebite in her voluptuous blackened painted lips
eagers me to receive a curious kiss
upon my own who so long for,
the taste of her, like nothing before.
-
The gorgeous permanent stains of ink
upon her ***** thighs, arms, and calves,
exemplify her smooth pearl-white skin
her delicate tattooed knuckles and hands,
could now easily tear me in half.
-
As i try to look away
from that teasing, black lingerie,
she turns and looks with pale blue eyes,
the most wonderful I have ever seen,
so far into my soul she delves that I admit,
I am but a lowly, mortal being.
-
This Goddess of death, this Massacre Angel
what some call not a treasure,
she is in all my nightmarish dreams,
and I always owe her the pleasure.
-
I am a slave to her eyes,
that so easily peer through me,
it is not that I tread not, or wear disguise,
but the answer always eludes me.
-
Though she is my unholy holiness that
grants me dark in wretched light,
one day I shall pass and our spirits
will lay together for an eternity of
a macabre romantic night.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 11:47 PM UTC
She sits, and she’s pale and cadaverous,
her black hair, short to her chin, the dye in her skin,
the corpselike designs deify her to me,
and she is marvelous.
-
A snakebite in her voluptuous blackened painted lips
eagers me to receive a curious kiss
upon my own who so long for,
the taste of her, like nothing before.
-
The gorgeous permanent stains of ink
upon her ***** thighs, arms, and calves,
exemplify her smooth pearl-white skin
her delicate tattooed knuckles and hands,
could now easily tear me in half.
-
As i try to look away
from that teasing, black lingerie,
she turns and looks with pale blue eyes,
the most wonderful I have ever seen,
so far into my soul she delves that I admit,
I am but a lowly, mortal being.
-
This Goddess of death, this Massacre Angel
what some call not a treasure,
she is in all my nightmarish dreams,
and I always owe her the pleasure.
-
I am a slave to her eyes,
that so easily peer through me,
it is not that I tread not, or wear disguise,
but the answer always eludes me.
-
Though she is my unholy holiness that
grants me dark in wretched light,
one day I shall pass and our spirits
will lay together for an eternity of
a macabre romantic night.
Request permission to use this poem