- Erotic Poetry
- Little Death
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What fragile words cannot tell, the journey that you seek.
From depths within the ember starts, consuming all therein.
Through bone and skin, through every nerve pleasure it does grow.
So sweet the pain that takes you there, its rapture soon to know.
Thrust so upon that precipice, you shudder, quake, and moan.
No more! No more! Oh please don’t stop! You cry again and groan.
Then wave upon wave it covers you and pray it never stops.
As crashing tides it shatters you upon its jagged rocks.
Too soon the tide its flow does ebbs and comes the nether void.
Such pleasure then, such emptiness?
Cry out, The Little Death.
