deepundergroundpoetry.com
Made In Hell
It is written in the loom
That she will come to my tomb
To consort with the dead
And lay with me in my bed.
A witch’s skin and my undead flesh
Will make an unholy caress.
My rigor mortis shaft
Will lovingly ease her wrath.
Rotten ichor and lady juice
Is what she choose.
Wormwood and decay smell
With make a match made in Hell.
That she will come to my tomb
To consort with the dead
And lay with me in my bed.
A witch’s skin and my undead flesh
Will make an unholy caress.
My rigor mortis shaft
Will lovingly ease her wrath.
Rotten ichor and lady juice
Is what she choose.
Wormwood and decay smell
With make a match made in Hell.
Published 25th Aug 2013
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Anonymous
25th Aug 2013 8:52pm
Hellacious love-making poem hades
strider
strider
26th Aug 2013 3:15am
