Wrong and Caught

You're wrong - the evening light has consequence,
As does the growing dark that soon surrounds
Your mind, when you are found with no defense,
Save muted cries that must make do for sounds
From one who's gagged and bound, as I make light
Of all your suffering, there on the edge
With all the wrongs that cannot make you right,
Until you spread yourself; and I, then, wedge
My hardness into you, where it belongs;
You know it's right and fitting, though it aches
To feel the fat cock freed to feed on wrongs
That I've invented just because it makes
You feel so guilty, helpless, as you're taught
The light has consequence - you're wrong and caught.