deepundergroundpoetry.com
Minutes
Its a wild ride
when you are completely
intoxicated with obsession for someone.
The sweet sorrow and pain.
The pleasure in suffering.
Making the love intense and addicting.
You realize and admit your addiction to the erotic.
Your whole being fiends for it.
You enjoy every second you are under his spell.
To feel owned by your lover.
The craving to be controlled punished by his hands.
You down on your knees pleading for his demands,
as you are enslaved
for his satisfaction.
And, at the pinnacle of surrender,
when your body and mind have traveled to the climax of their boundaries,
you are then questioned: "
Shall we continue with your training of submission?
Are you willing to commit your life?
Will every minute in the hours be his?"
With no hesitation,
you bow down to him and reply
yes..
when you are completely
intoxicated with obsession for someone.
The sweet sorrow and pain.
The pleasure in suffering.
Making the love intense and addicting.
You realize and admit your addiction to the erotic.
Your whole being fiends for it.
You enjoy every second you are under his spell.
To feel owned by your lover.
The craving to be controlled punished by his hands.
You down on your knees pleading for his demands,
as you are enslaved
for his satisfaction.
And, at the pinnacle of surrender,
when your body and mind have traveled to the climax of their boundaries,
you are then questioned: "
Shall we continue with your training of submission?
Are you willing to commit your life?
Will every minute in the hours be his?"
With no hesitation,
you bow down to him and reply
yes..
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