Songs of Night

I thirst,
not for wine,
like at first,
but for what's mine,
that perfect shape,
With tan lines,
that from waist to nape.

Trace them with my eyes,
Then my tongue,
they leave me singing songs,
best left unsung,
songs of the void,
that your moans like to fill,
songs of the adoration,
my punishments instill,
songs of silence,
all that I have heard,
Songs of your God,
who's rage you love to stir,
songs of Boredom,
my days without any play,
songs of night,
for who needs the day?