- Non-Erotic Poetry
- M.o.S.B.: The Acquisition
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Memoirs of Satan's Betrothed: The Acquisition
Whispers echo through the corridors
As the stained glass shatters from the church windows.
And yet all I can do is think:
He is out there.
He is out there.
The gales of wind howl my name
As the church doors cave to the pounding.
And yet all I can do is think:
He is out there.
He is out there.
Chills burn my bravery away
As the dust clears revealing his hoofed-feet and clawed-hands.
And yet all I can do is pray:
God, save me.
God, save me.
His eyes glow blood-red
As they tear at my soul.
And yet all I can do is pray:
God, save me.
God, save me.
His arms open to me
As he says, "Come my love."
And yet all I can do is cry:
I am damned.
I am damned.
My feet move me to him
As my mind screams out, "NO!"
And yet all I can do is cry:
I am damned.
I am damned.
"This is all meant to be," he grins
As his great scaled arms take me in.
And yet all I can do is beg:
Let me go.
Let me go.
His monsterous-black wings flail out
As he presses me hard to his breast.
And yet all I can do is beg:
Let me go.
Let me go.
We descend from the church and into his darkness
As my hopes of salvation fade and then die.
And yet all I can do is say:
I am lost.
I am lost.
