You'll always be her little bitch,
Her spineless little pet.
You'll fetch her drinks,
Yet dream of things,
Like how you'll escape next.
Except you won't,
You'll hold on,
For that little Glimmer of hope.
The hope that she may,
Even love a creature,
Such like you.
You'll never leave,
You spineless little thing.
She'll make you want to stay,
But to your dismay,
She'll play her games...
And eat you in the end.
So go ahead,
Be her stew.
I'll see you in the dark,
In those tombs of the living dead.
They will eat your head,
And probe your mind.
Then they'll break that little spine,
That you once thought you had...
COMMENTS
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martin
02:13 Jan 26 2011
nice ... i like it, well constructed, and soooo relatable
NOKTURNL
04:41 Dec 18 2019
nice work