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Satanathema's Journal


Satanathema's Journal

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2 entries this month
 

'Succubus Lover' - A poem.

12:39 Jan 30 2009
Times Read: 545


Succubus Lover





She crept from the presence of some satisfied lot

Slid through an open window and into this cot

To be the weight on my chest and the theft of my breath

Corpse dressed in naught but pale white flesh



Her dripping honeydew gutter had left virgins aflutter

And saturated the sheets of the victims she'd eat

Cadaver remains leaving warm blanket stains

At the thoughts of this demoness and her fornication abyss



A phallus seeks entrance through a hole in her throat

Mora, her gloom, permeating the room, as though by smoke

Paralyzed and bewitched once you've kissed the decay

On her sinful black lips, oh, the ensuing dismay



With bedeviled desire reigniting the fire

That had fled from me in days of celebacy

I run my hand through the hair of this queen of despair

On the wall our silhouettes collide in dim candlelight



Bound to me now, so dark and enchained

She screams menacing things daylight can't convey

So serpentine is she, her slit pupils meet mine

Encouraged to slash, tempted to bite



Vampiric instinct invites me for a drink

A cocktail in red, a toast to the dead

I bite into her veins, she cherishes the pain

There is nothing wet left but her moist eager cleft



Asphyxiated, inhaling wonder

Penetrated, bedsick by thunder

Bonded by bloodstains

My succubus lover








As always, comments are welcomed.

COMMENTS

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MorbidAngels15
MorbidAngels15
18:24 Jan 30 2009

nicely written ^_^ i enjoyed reading this





 

The result of sleep deprivation, wild fantasies, and the pursuit of individuality - in short, a poem.

12:55 Jan 29 2009
Times Read: 554


This is just something I wrote a few weeks ago, figured I'd post it on here. It isn't supposed to be a masterpiece, but at least say what I was feeling at the time.



A Prison for the Blind



Through the blinds on a window that is not my own

I stare at the pale, the dead and the drained

Like a hedge, my soul has become overgrown

Come to prick me, like a thorn meets a martyr with bane



In this tunnel vision, there is no light to guide me

Yes, with each law I shatter, I question myself

But in a world so bleak, with hands seeking to bind me

The tasks do not matter, nor does power or wealth



The shepherd must burn, for he leads astray his flock

They tell me I'm wrong, corrupt and confused

The angels must flee, for they bless only to lock

Away the minds of the bitter and abused



As I've sat here contemplating my every last move

My resolution guides me to the next chapter

With torches aglow, soldiers bearing truth

I exit this dark place with all-knowing laughter...





_______________________________________

Both constructive criticism and friendly comments are welcomed.


COMMENTS

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Isis101
Isis101
16:40 Jan 29 2009

Many times, the most interesting writing happens when one is out of it...





MorbidAngels15
MorbidAngels15
18:25 Jan 30 2009

Beautiful again ^_^





DarkFeline
DarkFeline
05:53 Aug 23 2009

I love your poetry. Very strong endings...








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