- Erotic Poetry
- Alleluia, beatus vir qui suffert
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Alleluia, beatus vir qui suffert
Chanting of the Monks
scene music, medieval
mood setting along with candles
casting a flickering light
over the makeshift dungeon
free will a distant memory
once you chose to enter
I am sovereign, absolute
void of negotiation
in this closeted world
of no compromise
you serve at my pleasure
hint of defiance in your eyes
will get you shackled, bound,
whipped until tears pool
holes exist to be filled
fucked unmercifully
or filled with fiendish
mechanisms keeping you
hovering around release
but no climactic moans
without your Liege’s nod
increasing your indebtedness
I only attract; I don’t persuade
with one promise
marks will fade
long before memories
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