An Evening WIth The Monster

the little one sits in dwindling light
she is watching again the return of night
her anticipation becomes tinged with fright
she senses His monster just out of sight

the little one wonders if the monster is here
to her it is certainly drawing near
drawn like a bee to the nectar of fear
watching her crying tear after tear

the little one listens for its knock on the door
as she see the monster stir deep in His core
and she’ll do as she’s done so many times before
give herself over to His monster once more

the little one sees the monster surface in Him
very soon now the games will begin
the monster’s sharp claws will tear at her skin
and she’ll feel the stab of its fangs again

the little one voluntarily to His desires will bend
and into His hands, her body commend
then down with the monster they will descend
her blood it will draw, her flesh it will rend

the little one trusts His control of this beast
certain it will never be completely released
on a bit of her entrails they will let to feast
but just a taste of her soul lest it’s hungers increase

the little one understands that for years He’s felt lost
it’s what denying the darkness in Him has caused
so she’ll offer her flesh to be embossed
to ease His suffering, she’d pay almost any cost

the little one struggles, she fights and strains
knowing she’ll never break free of His chains
her stifled cries to Him are a sweet refrain
His smile grows evil while the monster savors her pain

the little one lies helplessly on His bed
fighting a growing need to scream out “RED”
at last, panting, exhausted, her pride she does shed
her pain ends and He gently kisses her head

the little one senses the dissipation of clouds
cruelty no longer His expression enshrouds
the monster is again in its cell, as He vowed
He holds her tenderly, tells her she makes Him proud

the little one knows He will soon fully return
that His monster once again He has spurned
sent it back to its cage in an abrupt about turn
banished it swiftly because control he has learned

the little one loves He in whom the monster does dwell
she knows He’d give everything to end His hell
to be free of it urgings His soul He would sell
but He is caught tight in the monster’s spell

the little one finds that special look in His eyes
it proves that out of tenebrosity He did arise
evidence of emotion He never tries to disguise
it is the look that says she truly is His beloved prize