The other day a Second Life friend of mine sent me a poem he had written. I loved it so much, I asked him if I could post it on my site and he agreed.
Submit to Me
Come here, slave. Kneel before me. Then spread your thighs.
It’s not the collar, silks, or brand,
it’s not the bite of a chain.
It’s the fire in your senses:
darkness panting in your brain.
I’ll take you here and now. You don’t deserve a bed.
I’m not your husband or your brother.
not your father or your friend.
I’m the itch you cannot scratch.
I’m the rip you cannot mend.
Leave that on. You’re always naked in my eyes.
I’m the hand around your throat.
I’m the thrill you long to feel.
I’m the moment of your peak,
I’m the one who makes it real.
Lie down. Open up. I’m already in your head.
Fear me. Hate me. Curse me.
I’m the one who makes you whole.
Want me. Crave me. Need me.
I’m the author of your soul.
Submit to me.
Copyright 2011 Σφυρί. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without prior written permission from the author.