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Image for the poem Cenobite: the whore of hurt

Cenobite: the whore of hurt

Where she comes from nobody knows but hell is in her eyes
Black and sunken deep in the perfection of cold, pale and white
A masterpiece of lacerations, some slits and some open wide
Weeping wounds like decorations, endlessly they cry
Her skin opens like an eye to show her shiny, exposing spine
While masochists fingertips slide down and count the vertebrae of the sadist concubine

Razor wire whips this bitch with chains around her wrists
Arms pulled wide and tight she can't resist shaped like a crucifix

Her moans of ecstasy echo off the dungeon walls
Screams of pleasure snake through the labyrinth halls
They coil around demonic necks
And lick their ears with sounds of sex
Eyes dilate in arousals reflex
Orgasms here are hold no secrets

She calls my name
Configuring the puzzle I cannot wait
I beg for thee
A click, a whirr and she came for me
Krosgood
Written by Krosgood (Violence)
Published | Edited 7th Jun 2015
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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