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evelyn's Journal


evelyn's Journal

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2 entries this month

 

submission

19:23 May 07 2007
Times Read: 480


ancient line of charcoal fine

draped along pale skin in etches

each drawn with fantastic ease

carved deep into thine flesh.. open ravines



pointed nails, dark satin grace

crawled along thine lovely face

lips of ruby blood-drained crimson, so close, so near

"welcome my pet..through me.. feel it.. there is no fear"



above your line of sight, bent over and in amazing pain..

you alone bring it clear.. so real, so vivid, so vain

deeply hidden in warmth and cold so real

deeply enclosed, so comforted, so coveted



fingers enclosing around the chain,

flesh upon flesh, a tumbled down dance

pulling the prey closer, "come to me, let me be your bane.."



clawing, ravaging, firece.. on fire

driving wildly beyond ear shot-range

screams in the night, breaking the solitude

calls during moonrise, there is none to strange



calls to one another, mistress and the slave

you bow before your deity, loving my claim.

beautiful and bold, you dared to challenge

making the mistress submit, you are no master



punished first, in slow sweet refrain

only to follow, the succulent appreciation

fingers, fine, pale and divine, encircle the chains that force her target to bow, sink low in reaction.



"mistress, mine, forgive my crime"

"none shall know of this dreaded thing"

"mistress mine, forgive the trespass"

"i am here to serve you and only you"

"mistress mine, forgive the degradation"

"promise to thee, never will i betray, or i will die before you a dog in chains, this promise given with no regret".



COMMENTS

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poetry for the dying, scene 2 act 1

21:37 May 06 2007
Times Read: 486


this is a poem i posted on my myspace along with others. i thought this one would be good to share with others ... well other than the friends i have on myspace. enjoy.. let me know what yall think.



a simple man sits on his knees



a simple girl dies unappeased



little lower below the dirt



the bellowing of forsaken ones are heard



call the ones that were remembered last



reaching out but still must fast



collars heavy and cold against peeling skin



all are pusnished from within



target out the hatred calls



arrows fast and one more falls



horned, thou art that follows the one



far away in the dark and hiding in the sun



a guilty man sits upon his knees



a blood-covered girl dies unappeased.


COMMENTS

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