Ain't It Fun

Ain’t It Fun

A
shadowed
torment of
this soul’s desire
beckons through darkness,
vast insatiable need,
inevitable madness,
burgeoning with malice untold,
innerving, excitable passions
enhanced my quest, the destruction of you.

Willingly you’re drawn toward my deceit
with innumerable whisperings,
hushed voices howling through silence,
despondent visitations
portend imaginings,
lurid sensations,
hungering lust
coveting
you, my
prey.

I
speak your
name upon
death’s rushing wind,
echoed ecstasy
weaving insanity,
shackled to iniquity
immoral marriage of our souls,
still unsure of what you requested
I claim you, my slave, through eternity.

Deleterious my pernicious mode,
beholding our assignation’s fruit,
depravity’s thirst rewarded,
deep punishment you’re craving,
avengement for your soul’s
debauched, baneful state,
unforgiven
wickedness...
ain’t it
fun?