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freefireflyPoems
Fire is inside you, Inside me, Little one, Born at the bon fires at night, Born of greed; greedy lust. They all took me here, Took your mother away, Flung her sweet face to dirt, Where she tasted the moss, And felt the fire; Pain; pleasure rain. I used to fear, you'd born dire, Like, The cleft lip that marks a sad life, Like, Being born with no legs! How I feel now, legless, For I am unable to move, Except for a little cringe, As fiery rods were forced inside me. But I must confess, That I started to like the way that felt, But that was before, Before the last of the cuts opened within me, And a gore and blood mixture drained. But my sweet child, You were also born to the sweet scents of night-woods, Born of the moon and stars; dark and light. And your cries made me regret, No! No! Never did I regret you; my life, I regretted my thoughts, Those of penetrating myself with cold, steel rod, A real one, mind you, And I attempted to pierce your developing heart, To **** you and end my fears, I feared in my mind you would be born with the features of sin, But lo! It is not so, my sweet, sweet baby. I was not impregnated by those men, I was not impregnated by the weak trickle of life, That spews from their desire-rods. My dear boy, I was impregnated by the lovely night! Sweet, sweet night......
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Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC
Sweet Child Of Night
Fire is inside you, Inside me, Little one, Born at the bon fires at night, Born of greed; greedy lust. They all took me here, Took your mother away, Flung her sweet face to dirt, Where she tasted the moss, And felt the fire; Pain; pleasure rain. I used to fear, you'd born dire, Like, The cleft lip that marks a sad life, Like, Being born with no legs! How I feel now, legless, For I am unable to move, Except for a little cringe, As fiery rods were forced inside me. But I must confess, That I started to like the way that felt, But that was before, Before the last of the cuts opened within me, And a gore and blood mixture drained. But my sweet child, You were also born to the sweet scents of night-woods, Born of the moon and stars; dark and light. And your cries made me regret, No! No! Never did I regret you; my life, I regretted my thoughts, Those of penetrating myself with cold, steel rod, A real one, mind you, And I attempted to pierce your developing heart, To **** you and end my fears, I feared in my mind you would be born with the features of sin, But lo! It is not so, my sweet, sweet baby. I was not impregnated by those men, I was not impregnated by the weak trickle of life, That spews from their desire-rods. My dear boy, I was impregnated by the lovely night! Sweet, sweet night......
A fantasized version of a dire secret my mother shared with me.
#sin#mother#night#child#dire#moonfirefly
freefirefly
Written by
freefirefly
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC
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