I look at the floor, where burdens bore,
and an angel hangs her head to cry.
With pinkish skin, where heat's within,
escaped with an audible sigh.Her emotions they soar, with flesh thats tore,
and a halo doused in thorns.
She smiles to me, yet frightenly,
a new emotion has been born."More," she pleads, with ever-lasting need,
need for my strong touch.
A beg for more, that sin-filled whore,
a prostitute of my lust.With crystalline eyes, she spreads her thighs,
allowing me access to;
Her deep insides, her loving prize,
her heart that loves so true.I sedate her desires, put out her fires,
with one stroke at a time.
She lays there still, a struggle of will,
and endures the pain left behind.Her lips, they curve, with the loss of nerve,
shrouded in the abyss of agony;
In a downward slope, with a lack of hope,
"Stop," she pleades repeatedly.With a few more lashes, I withdrawl my actions,
and let her body cool.
But THIS torture's too much, without my touch,
how could I be so cruel?Oh, please make up your mind, your confusing mine,
does it continue or does it halt?
If you can't decide, than I shall oblige,
for my indecision is not at fault.I think I shall leave, leave you here,
until your able to conceive;
The new emotion born, from the things that are torn,
and the love in each of your pleas.I will not decide, from between your hide,
or from your love that can't be tamed.
It's not a game, don't be ashamed,
pleasure and pain are both the same.And I look at the floor, as I move towards the door,
and an angel hangs her head to cry.
With pinkish skin, where heat's within,
escaped with an audible sigh.Her emotions they soar, with flesh thats tore,
and a halo with thorns so sharp.
She smiles to me, yet frightenly,
as I leave her in the dungeon of my heart.
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