The Demon of Beauty

Fall the love,
Raise the dead.
When beauty decays,
True rawness is revealed.
The cracks and groans of pain.
The hell bound heart.
A hate which cannot be contained.
“I’ll follow you  to hell” she whispers in ecstasy,
With lust dripping from her eyes.
“I’ll follow you to hell,” she whispers again.
“the only thing I wonder is when…”
When vile beauty is born,
The lord cries.
From the pain of the thorn, and the blood in his eyes.
When vile beauty is broken,
Satan gives you the pass,
As your hell token.
When vile beauty decays,
Demons break loose,
And the blood sprays.
The blood trickles,
And the women giggles because it tickles,
With a sadistic laugh and howls,
She’ll be lusting for him,
As she consumes his bowels.
 

Reviews

[Flow~]

I hope that most of us have felt the power of lust, passion and desires that make us say out loud that we would follow someone to hell and maybe back again if possible. Lust has that power of humbling the most stubborn and powerful soul into a pile of begging flesh. Great write.