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FEED ON ME : FORKED TONGUES AND VAMPIRIC PENS II
”I present to thee, lover
Succubus
Whore
The vilest thing I could offer to thee
My blackened heart
Being
Soul
Upon a pulpit of pure obsidian”
Feed on me
Like a spectre at the feast
Gnawing like a savage beast
Nothing is what it seems
Feed on me
I lay in an open casket placed before your banquet
With a poison apple in my mouth and a gun to my head
You stand before me surrounded by all my lost friends
Who I left behind, dragged below and left them all for dead
Thunder pounds from forked tongues
Spitting venom for the doomed
I love you too much to waste my pen
Vampiric in nature
When I scribe the moon
For you
Feed on me
Like a demon at the gates
Devour Heaven’s remains
Below where Hades awaits
Feed on me
And I have never seen such beauty so sinister
I eagerly slice my wrists so you can drink from my veins
You suck so hard, so good as if it’s the finest wine
The Gothic countess freshly arisen from the burning flames
Thunder pounds from forked tongues
Spitting venom for the doomed
I love you too much to waste my pen
Vampiric in nature
When I scribe the moon
For you
If God could only see
What you left of me
He’d say you’re fucked
And wash his hands of thee
Wash His hands of me
Wash me in blood of the innocently deceased
So that I may crawl to you humble ‘fore the crooked idol
Placed at your grave, depraved, smother with fresh offal
I have desecrated everything for you, savage, primal
SO
Feed on me
Like a demon at the gates
Devour Heaven’s remains
Below where Hades awaits
Feed on me
Like a spectre at the feast
Gnawing like a savage beast
Nothing is what it seems
Feed on me
Thunder pounds from forked tongues
Spitting venom for the doomed
I love you too much to waste my pen
Vampiric in nature
When I scribe the moon
”I present to thee, lover
Succubus
Whore
The vilest thing I could offer to thee
My blackened heart
Being
Soul
Upon a pulpit of pure obsidian”
(c) 2017 Frank Green
Succubus
Whore
The vilest thing I could offer to thee
My blackened heart
Being
Soul
Upon a pulpit of pure obsidian”
Feed on me
Like a spectre at the feast
Gnawing like a savage beast
Nothing is what it seems
Feed on me
I lay in an open casket placed before your banquet
With a poison apple in my mouth and a gun to my head
You stand before me surrounded by all my lost friends
Who I left behind, dragged below and left them all for dead
Thunder pounds from forked tongues
Spitting venom for the doomed
I love you too much to waste my pen
Vampiric in nature
When I scribe the moon
For you
Feed on me
Like a demon at the gates
Devour Heaven’s remains
Below where Hades awaits
Feed on me
And I have never seen such beauty so sinister
I eagerly slice my wrists so you can drink from my veins
You suck so hard, so good as if it’s the finest wine
The Gothic countess freshly arisen from the burning flames
Thunder pounds from forked tongues
Spitting venom for the doomed
I love you too much to waste my pen
Vampiric in nature
When I scribe the moon
For you
If God could only see
What you left of me
He’d say you’re fucked
And wash his hands of thee
Wash His hands of me
Wash me in blood of the innocently deceased
So that I may crawl to you humble ‘fore the crooked idol
Placed at your grave, depraved, smother with fresh offal
I have desecrated everything for you, savage, primal
SO
Feed on me
Like a demon at the gates
Devour Heaven’s remains
Below where Hades awaits
Feed on me
Like a spectre at the feast
Gnawing like a savage beast
Nothing is what it seems
Feed on me
Thunder pounds from forked tongues
Spitting venom for the doomed
I love you too much to waste my pen
Vampiric in nature
When I scribe the moon
”I present to thee, lover
Succubus
Whore
The vilest thing I could offer to thee
My blackened heart
Being
Soul
Upon a pulpit of pure obsidian”
(c) 2017 Frank Green
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