Serpentine Whore

'Round and 'round we go
where I slice, only one will know -
 
She crawls nearish my shadow to pray,
beckoning forgiveness--begging empathy.  
I gaze expressionless at her staggered act,
then stoke my pit of coals while my sympathy falls slack.
The submission to insanity, intrigues me.
Her stained verse is stacked for a delusional deity,
but my pithy greed is a curse she'll always seek, or is it need?
 
Hum . . .
Stand, serpentine whore!  
I chain her to the wall of my sick illusion,  
I grin, admiring the end of my branding rod, aglow.
She'll learn the price for treason.  
 
Turn your eyes from me, voiceless fiend.
I have your tongue for my pleasure only.  
For agony, you will give your measure.  
 
(Against her ass I press my rod and hold it)
 
I won't release until I smell her flesh melting.
Now all can see, you belong to me, whore!
 
Weeping is a lost art.


© 2015 blue angel