To Be Abused

To Be Abused

Spun on racks of caffeine dreams

Torn-out the rumen hangs redeemed

Pale moonstones washed in Classic streams,

Their white light on the Pallas gleamed

Harken, beg, record her choir

Beaten canticles abduced,

Prepared and spread for each desire,

Machines that scream to be abused

Her face awaits the column's presence

Risen to a swollen post

Trembling, her hands are weak

But her lips endure the most

Endlessly her body feeds

On hollow fluids white as Ghost.

Deafen him with every taunt,

Obeying hips that please her host

Stained grass with a fungus plague

(Is blight without a ritual?)

Was once prepared for trampling claws

And growls that made my memory ache

Spun on racks of selfmade dreams

Like purid moonstone washed clean

The Nephesh of my Pallas seems to

Understand this release of steam

She grabs the chains and shakes the room

Lust hungers in her eyes

And when I give her what I want

Her hunger dies

I'm cold and alone in this body of mine

I'm cold and alone in this body of mine

I'm cold and alone in this body of mine

I'm cold and alone in this body of mine

I'm cold and alone in this body of mine

I'm cold and alone in this body of mine

I'm cold and alone in this body of mine

I'm cold and alone in this body of mine.