The beast within it needs to tear
no thought of tender no thought of care.
Just to reach and devour the prize,
to feel the flame the power arise.
Pounding, sounding wails of pleasure
only demons determine the measure,
higher higher souls conspire
in mortal twists and convulsive rage,
turn turn
for Christ's sake..turn the page.
© Lance W Toohey Poetry
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 11:19 PM UTC
The beast within it needs to tear
no thought of tender no thought of care.
Just to reach and devour the prize,
to feel the flame the power arise.
Pounding, sounding wails of pleasure
only demons determine the measure,
higher higher souls conspire
in mortal twists and convulsive rage,
turn turn
for Christ's sake..turn the page.
© Lance W Toohey Poetry