Control, wrap you around my little finger.
Have you doing things that are of immoral and uncanny nature.
Have you running around in circles.
Questioning my next move.
Jealousy makes you ugly, but jealous because you cannot have me, I must be flattered.
The devil in disguise, Sukkubus is her name.
Dance with me in sin and ravish my deep desires.
I control you, I have dominance over you.
My little peasant trying so hard to please me.
How cute.
Ego is filling up.
Feelin myself a bit too much.
But these sinful feelings make me happy, because I love being in control.
I love how you say nasty things about me because you cannot have me.
I smirk in devilish charm.
My magnitude pulls you in.
Magnetism.
Power.
The only thing that keeps me sane.
The master of puppets is at it again.

Every work of heart is each a piece of art
Be it poems, sculptures, music or drafts
Each are beautiful and marvolous krafts
Novels that remain throughout their age
Perfect art upon every page
Paintings with stories not written in word
And songs that bless all who heard
Man may say and do the worst
With hateful crimes and words accursed
But while we bring the world to its end
At least we have a heart to descend

First pleas
Unsaid
Red eyes
Dry riverbeds
Here lies
Happiness
Buried six feet deep in regrets

Seconds pass
Out of time
Speak now
I’ve tried
Spelled out
Words repeat
Words first said as you fade to sleep

Dreamer
I call to you
Thrice more
Beyond veiled view
Same hour
Twelfth night
When fate took you from my life

Questions
Madness drives
To forefronts
Darkness arrives
Forever more
Your deathly dance
Unchained from mortal coil and my hands

Dark night
Fifth on same day
Answer me
In my dismay
Where she
Still alive
Would she stand to be my wife?

Sycophant
To demons now
Here I plead
Hear my vow
Disaster struck
Her voice I know
This pain in me only grows

Heaven now
At my back
Seventh cry
Into the black
Driving words
In my mind
Wond’ring how she left me behind

8:00
On the hour
When hands turned cold
When life turned sour
Thoughts careen
Into the fade
Twelfth night bereft of the day

Knees, you bleed
Heart is torn
My love, a corpse
With child, unborn
Words I read
Pure sacrilege
In hopes to breed words from the dead

Both hands dig in
Fingers trembling still
Hear my plea
Unsacred will
If she would speak
These words to me
Maybe I could finally sleep

All attempts failed
No price to much
Gouge out these eyes
Hands go untouched
One this wicked month
Short of a dozen years
I drive myself to bring you here

Oh Twelfth Night
What terror you bring
As words arise
From Hell’s opening
The inferno rains
Words burned in my head
“With this wedding ring, I thee wed”

It was like she was getting pushed
into ice.

Her body feeling like it had completely
frozen.
Yet she felt her stomach turn and her heart
beating out her chest.

But when she felt it was over it was clear her body
lost it's way to her dress.
She thought to herself how could such a beautiful dress
have been so easily ripped apart at the seams.

And grappled at the thought that it would now
only appear in her most nightmarish of dreams.

Her legs go everywhere I want to go.
Heaven.
Hell.
And everywhere in between.

Awash in dancing sea glass light
I watch the ocean late at night
But I have never been

The only ocean that I know
Is filled with wintry frozen snow
That God did not intend

I wander cross it in a fright
While tripping often as it’s night
And slipping on the snow

An owl wings above my head
Reminding me of seagulls led
By merchants to the coast

A barrel loaded to the brim
And sailors singing salty hymns
Assault my ears and nose

I grasp the rough hewn timber rail
And hear the snapping of the sail
Among the clapping waves

The salty air upon my tongue
Turns dark and rough and then we plunge
Upon a pitching swell

A glowing branch lights up the sky
I see it though I’ve closed my eyes
And shines upon some hell

I know it from my darkest fears
And shun such moaning from my ears
All thought has lost its perch

Wait, no more am I staring out
Aloof, aghast, about to shout
Now I see ice-glazed birch

They shiver slightly with the cold
A breeze picks up and takes its hold
On sounds from far away

A quiet whisper fills my head
The voice that wracks a soul with dread
And grabs me by the feet

I stand there frozen to my spot
But seeing only driftwood rot
And float away from me

The icy hand that grasped my throat
And pricked my skin and thinned my coat
Now plays his lilting harp

I fall into a deepened sleep
His lullaby like counting sheep
And nod off in the snow

When I awake, a tropic storm
Has thundered in to greet with warm
But hellish gusts of air