Passages of a poetic play in progression

Power

[The voice continues; this time more seductive; it whispers to me:]

"Do you still recall your days of power? The intoxicating feeling, the black glossy heavily flowing substance draped around you, the passion and desire, the surge of energy rushing through the core of your spine from down up and backwards, the applause and enchantment, the feeling that the strings of all world's puppets are held by you?"

(The rest of this entry is deleted for the time being...)