Kings have honor
Blooded warriors have bravery
And poets have heart
Then I need a villain, smart and keen
Someone who bends the knee
Only to me
the depths of sorrow I clawed from, he's seen
Above those depths he's determined to keep me
I, as His domain
Comfy, lavished, praised, without any strain
he destroys anything that dare threaten.
Loyal to no organization
Sensitive to human emotions and intentions
Suspicious of all who pay any malicious attention
To His crowned jewel of ascension
Willing to capture, maim
To make an intruder pay
The ultimate price, in a methodical way
To any who dare harm I, his domain
One who admires a hell of a woman
He watches her blossom, confident in his domain.
Proud of her frame
Her mind, soul and body his to claim
Unwilling to restrain her ambition in any way
Unless she's restrained to the bed frame
Under low lights, purring, ready to be tamed
By the main who she's claimed
Just as much as he has claimed she as his domain
Our levels of obsession completely sane
And Exactly the same
I wait for him, I call to him on the astral plane
again and again
Slice my palm with my Athame
Fueling dormant energies with consecrated pain
To call to him on the similarly familiar unseen plane
For as long as it takes, again, and again and again.
Until he is by my side, always to remain.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Doves and Their Pretty Corpses
PoetryA collection of original poems, writings, and laments Hopefully cathartically relatable to those who read it, as you are not alone in this abyss. I am here too. Cover art by: Voidbug on IG
