Poetry

No longer of God, my barriers broken, my morals intact, though merely a token. Has led to a path steeped in sin, free of guilt, ripping God and his sword, from my heart, by the hilt. Blade shattered through striking hell's cage around soul, its pieces no more than a memory of old. Cut through with fresh ease on the depth of my sin, and sharpened and honed through blood rites of my kin. In vampire breeds, my heart became stricken, of wife and our clan, of our truth God forbidd

Sisters in blood, sisters in passion, my morals care not of the view or the fashion. My girls in their lust, eternal in prime, both bloodied and sinful, past logic, or rhyme. My wife and her sister, two sides to my third, my standing now equal, to either their word. My turning from God, wife's gift of succession, few thoughts I have spent, on this final transgression. My role has now changed, from scornful low heel, my strength is now equal, through Satan's full seal. Mind l

You, my Beloved, may place me in chains, Your hands simple tools, to Satan's mind games. My soul just a painting, to add to His collection, His power your paint, to my canvased inception. I'm dangled as plaything, commands I hear spoken, Though long understanding, my will must be broken. I'm shattered and bitten, bloodied and wrought, no single part, escaped a fierce thought. Yet key to our unity, lay here eternal, hidden on pages, within my own journal. I could never be turn

Last night I was taken, in blood lust and raw, To help replenish, wife's soul draining maw. My blood, simple remedy, taking her jeopardy, On well hewn path, to her satisfied rhapsody. My heart is in pieces, I wonder to cope, Of wife's endless needs, fulfilled at my throat. My blood often drained, my very soul hurt, It’s becoming less often, my mind can assert. I’m trapped, beaten chained and stricken, I cry every day, from neck being bitten. I prayed to God, an act of repenta

My wife is a temptress, enticing, indulging, Reducing my morals, yet glans still are bulging. Leading me through, needs without measure, And leading by hand, to my hell sated pleasure. My wife is of clan, pure blood and true, Her kin indeed, are steeped in rue. For lifetime of mine, I held onto pride, Refusing to join, and trying to hide, My will became weak, over many a year, Desire much greater, than morals so dear. My wife found and broke me, at weakness so low, Her endowm

My wife and her sister, my bane and my strife, They fight over me, my body and life. I'm merely the wood, to either their awl, And pulled one to the other, as rope between all. My say has no meaning, my choices redundant, My thoughts on the matter, no use most recumbent. I'm taken not forced, used in ways of not kings, My body and mind simply toys, or playthings. Yet love does not bring, peace to my mind, I wish not to be shared, married wife not her kind. Her sister most bea

I loved my wife before she knew my existence, I felt she was there, always there, out of reach, So painfully sharp and bitterly harsh, Invading my dreams, pervading my sleep. A shadow, a phantom, a symbol of love, Awaiting my heart, awaiting my soul, Awaiting my mind to give up resistance. A jagged sting, a cut, uncovered, I yearned in painful need, To touch, to feel, To know, that sadness, true, So deep of soul and great of love. Beyond this life, it's miserable ways, Beyond