A thousand words, I have heard pass through your caustic lips.
Each causing me to force upon screams that would echo through not the sounds of men
but the echos of eternity.
Do you not know the true meaning of pain? For it is within thine soul that somewhere within
lurks the demons of your debauchery.
You call upon me, in your greed, you sate my need for your touch, your voice, your eyes,
with nothing more than a mere blow of your poisonous words.
And when I have finally conceded my soul into the palm of your hand.
A Coup De Grace so horrifyingly beautiful is dealt.
For it wasn’t your doing you committed this lie.
A blinded man wrecked with a need for you.
So is your sinless lie.