deepundergroundpoetry.com

Crimson Kisses and Nightmare Dreams

- Crimson Kisses and Nightmare Dreams -

My Dark Goddess, so like unto a fair angel from lofty Heaven sent,
She cometh in great glory, her fire riding the clouds in the sky above�
She cometh in great glory, her form dark and beautiful as is the night.
How swiftly doth she fly, that no mortal can know just where she went!
She cometh for me, her heart filled with such a fiery and terrible love�
Her eyes burning with an inhuman desire, her spirit burning so bright!
How canst I speak of that great gaze that burned like Hell�s own fire?
Or: of the longing that I felt, to be consumed by those very flames!
I felt ablaze, like dry wood upon the heap of some high roaring pyre,
I touched: a wildness that not any meditation or prayer ever tames�
She, embraced me; I was willing to be so utterly and so purely lost,
As, I offered myself up as a sacrifice to my Goddess, to my Divine.
I held such a passion for her, that I was heedless of the hidden cost,
She wanted me for her own, and how I wanted her to also be mine!
My very blood was her nectar, and I was her chalice, her sacred cup,
She tasted of me as a noble aristocrat tastes their favorite red wine�
Such pure and raw pleasure that I couldst not hope to, in words, describe.
Soon my turn came, and upon her nectar I didst, in my hunger, sup�
Together, we experienced the rapture for which we both didst pine,
Whilst on the darkness incarnate I didst, in my total madness, imbibe.
Darkness given doth darkness beget, and in her I felt at last complete,
For I was always a child of her darkness, though I had known it not.
So perfect was our sharing, so completely perfect and sublimely sweet,
We came to know each other�s soul, and every little hidden thought.
Her eyes bathed me in her infernal passions; was I become damned?
I cared not, for so long as my damnation was to dwell in her arms�
I wished to fulfill her every whim, even down to her smallest demand.
Her flames may of a want burn, but of all my flesh, nothing it harms,
For my life, from the first, was but the fulfillment of her first command.
Black Mother, thou dost do me great honor with the gift of thy kiss,
Dark Goddess, I do find in thy worship the bounty of an endless bliss.
Queen of the Night, long after my wanton lust for thee is long spent,
Ebony Angel, I discover that my soul is still too pure and too innocent.
Mistress of Death, thou hast renewed my spirit, in thy personal hell�
Weaver of Shadows, my happiness is the product of thy subtle spell.
Forgive me Mother, for I am a sinner in thy unholy but blessed name,
If love is a sin, for I do love thee without a bit of regret or any shame.
Forgive me Goddess, for I do commit blasphemy against the Most High,
If praises be blasphemous, for I do praise thee before earth and sky!
To a living mortal, thy touch is the grave; thy fingers do freeze as ice,
Yet to me thou art warm, thy touch is hotter than the fires of the sun.
Ah, how the heat of thy body doth call to me, such temptation as doth entice�
For I am a thread, a strand of darkness from thy black silk web spun!
Wilt thou hear my confession oh High Priestess of the Bottomless Pit?
I confess to thee my ravenous need to drown in our sensual abandon,
Our bodies entwined like vines that twist and writhe upon brick: sweet ivy.
How I do loath the dreaded hour when our coupled forms must split!
I confess, my lustful thirst for thee hath made me quite the whorish wanton.
Dost thou wish my soul? I will gladly pay that tithe quickly; gods help me!
That is not a steep toll! Sweet crimson ambrosia doth anoint my lips, slick.
Crimson kisses and nightmare dreams of countless dark fantasies fulfilled�
I have partaken in a scarlet communion: the red cup�s wine hath spilled.
Her Six Wings are the six thousand years when she ruled the shadows supreme,
Her Six Arms are her six highest acolytes, each a child of the Draconic Queen.
Her Six Eyes are the six senses she manipulates in both reality and in dream�
Know ye the vision of which I speak, and the true nature of all I hath seen?
Chill me to the bone, cold lady, for thy chill flames do warm my blood�
Dream Empress, if ever I am alone, and my tears do fall in a sad flood,
I pray that the mournful music of my weeping doth reach thy very ears:
So that thy fire and love may restore me to the joy of our ecstatic years,
When I was made anew by thy desire and the power of thy deep passion,
Arisen from the grip of death by a kiss, a forbidden love of darkest fashion.