My King

A poem about loyalty and sacrifice... maybe

May I bleed out before you, sprawled out in all my vulnerabilities, my King?

For you have pierced me until the hilt, now watch me writhe and quiver beneath you,

Craving, begging, yearning for that death I so desperately desire!

You corrupt me without restraint, now make me suffer under your command...

I have died so many times, and yet you have just come alive.

Allow me to slake that perfervid flame that enrages you so!

Permit me to placate such tantalizing tempests and sinful storms that make you savage!

Perchance I could anchor you to my shore?

Or I could stoke your blaze a while longer?

Eagerly, you poise before me, so drunken in your battle glory,

Those wars that make your body shine, your legs weak, your soul full.

I see that familiar smirk plastered on your face,

Intoxicated yet again from some carnal sensation, so addicting and alluring!

Consume me until your hunger is satiated, until the electricity stops pulsating through your soul,

Drink me until you have had your full, revel in that dangerous thrill that provokes you,

Completely devour me until your flame is extinguished.

Make me surrender, my King!

Return your mighty sword to its sheath,

Until I beg for death again.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Ah, to have a woman speak to you in this manner. I'd even settle for a recorded version.