Your hot, hard kiss shall curdle my soul into ten thousand hard, bitter cold lumps of a cruel, cancerous rust that makrs my tender skin with a pain unknown to the likes of your sweet self.
Tell me, sweet master, could you love one as wretched as myself? I year for your passion, your ardour, your touch and taste. Consume me whole, or discard me in the hard winds of time and eternal pain. This suffering you cause brings only sweet ecstasy to my dried out, hollow veins...
Your kiss would light up the world in my tear soaked eyes. Give me your beauty, your kiss, you broken heart, as a gift, and a token of your everlasting love.
Tell me, sweet master, could you love one as wretched as myself? I year for your passion, your ardour, your touch and taste. Consume me whole, or discard me in the hard winds of time and eternal pain. This suffering you cause brings only sweet ecstasy to my dried out, hollow veins...
Your kiss would light up the world in my tear soaked eyes. Give me your beauty, your kiss, you broken heart, as a gift, and a token of your everlasting love.
