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deepundergroundpoetry.com
FOR THE REVELERS OF CENOBITICAL BEDEVILERS
Thus the countess of Satanical revelers
Beckons me unto her black room of pain
When the moon reigns high just like your lover’s corpse
Then I will cum in unholy throes of bloody rain
Lose me in the hallways of her labyrinthine
Chambers carved into obsidian hearts of libertines
Bewitched by her scalpels, within haunted chapels
Purified in her genocide
The concubine of the vilest Frankensteins
Bound naked among Cenobitical devilers
I hang from hooks in her red room of fuck
Elders crawl to feast from visceral offerings
From the flayed meatus in vain so you may now suck
This configuration of meat and magic
Can only lament in tales, red and tragic
Devil sworn words branded into human flesh
Tighten the screws upon the teats of the possessed
I can hear the screams of those died ‘tween her thighs
As the countess opens herself with forceps
Bestial howls rend the night in her splendor
A thin line ‘twixt thunder, pleasure and torture
I will not kneel with the other slaves of servitude
But offer my pierced cock to desecrate
Reach inside the gash to caress my heart
Hellbound when we dominate the desolate
Love me in the hallways of her labyrinthine
Chambers carved into obsidian hearts of libertines
Bewitched by her scalpels, within haunted chapels
Purified in her genocide
The concubine of the vilest Frankensteins
I bow, fealty to the lady of shadows
Who blurs the lines between pain and pleasure
Severed veins and the thrice cursed syndrome
I will not risk the wrath of the aggressor
I could never be
Her Dracula
All the red roses
I gave to her
Have drowned in the blood
I spilled for her
And the coming storm
Is an omen
Of her dread fury
That our demons
Float with the dead
Love me in the hallways of her labyrinthine
Chambers carved into obsidian hearts of libertines
Bewitched by her scalpels, within haunted chapels
Purified in her genocide
The concubine of the vilest Frankensteins
This configuration of meat and magic
Can only lament in tales, red and tragic
Devil sworn words branded into human flesh
Tighten the screws upon the teats of the possessed
I can hear the screams of those died ‘tween her thighs
As the countess opens herself with forceps
Bestial howls rend the night in her splendor
A thin line ‘twixt thunder, pleasure and torture
(c) 2017 Frank Green
Beckons me unto her black room of pain
When the moon reigns high just like your lover’s corpse
Then I will cum in unholy throes of bloody rain
Lose me in the hallways of her labyrinthine
Chambers carved into obsidian hearts of libertines
Bewitched by her scalpels, within haunted chapels
Purified in her genocide
The concubine of the vilest Frankensteins
Bound naked among Cenobitical devilers
I hang from hooks in her red room of fuck
Elders crawl to feast from visceral offerings
From the flayed meatus in vain so you may now suck
This configuration of meat and magic
Can only lament in tales, red and tragic
Devil sworn words branded into human flesh
Tighten the screws upon the teats of the possessed
I can hear the screams of those died ‘tween her thighs
As the countess opens herself with forceps
Bestial howls rend the night in her splendor
A thin line ‘twixt thunder, pleasure and torture
I will not kneel with the other slaves of servitude
But offer my pierced cock to desecrate
Reach inside the gash to caress my heart
Hellbound when we dominate the desolate
Love me in the hallways of her labyrinthine
Chambers carved into obsidian hearts of libertines
Bewitched by her scalpels, within haunted chapels
Purified in her genocide
The concubine of the vilest Frankensteins
I bow, fealty to the lady of shadows
Who blurs the lines between pain and pleasure
Severed veins and the thrice cursed syndrome
I will not risk the wrath of the aggressor
I could never be
Her Dracula
All the red roses
I gave to her
Have drowned in the blood
I spilled for her
And the coming storm
Is an omen
Of her dread fury
That our demons
Float with the dead
Love me in the hallways of her labyrinthine
Chambers carved into obsidian hearts of libertines
Bewitched by her scalpels, within haunted chapels
Purified in her genocide
The concubine of the vilest Frankensteins
This configuration of meat and magic
Can only lament in tales, red and tragic
Devil sworn words branded into human flesh
Tighten the screws upon the teats of the possessed
I can hear the screams of those died ‘tween her thighs
As the countess opens herself with forceps
Bestial howls rend the night in her splendor
A thin line ‘twixt thunder, pleasure and torture
(c) 2017 Frank Green
Published 14th Sep 2017
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