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Image for the poem The Host

The Host

     
twisted in my visions     
I loved every last one of them      
cold succor, darkest release      
tightly coiled and ready to spring      
     
sulfurous perfume, cloying      
clings to me announcing my presence      
German SS soldiers still marching      
in the bodies of the living damned      
     
hell's pyre burning here on Earth      
in the middle of the psych ward      
my placement in the hierarchy      
put in four point restraints      
     
my demons rose to the surface      
getting demonically dangerous      
using my hands and mouth      
to cast black magic and set shit on fire      
     
deranged demons insane      
these are the most vicious type      
pressing in on their host      
biting tearing and clawing      
     
then there are the creamy ones      
these are wickedly sexual      
showing me their ideas      
of sex appeasing them in my mind      
     
as demented as I am      
they make me squirm with their ideas of pleasure      
though I give in writhing in orgasmic agony      
no one can make me cum the way Lucifer can      
     
tearing back my face      
see the lunatic      
ticking out her wicked verse      
can you hear legion's curse?      
     
licking and tasting my cunt      
inhabiting my soul      
feeding me visions      
of serial killers      
     
plastic bags placed over women's heads      
as they're raped in the ass      
wash boarding them fucking them hard      
as they buck in the throes of death      
     
this is some of the perversion      
that my demons show me      
they creep not in the shadows      
walking in the flesh of mortals      
     
they are among us not in chains      
hell is on Earth they march on      
sending their clawed tendrils      
from this host to the next      
     
I'm Lucifer's sexual mount      
cunt always open      
on display should my Darkest Lord      
walk this way
Written by crimsin (Unveiling)
Published
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