Contrite II

Burnt up, eaten alive... By this sense... this cruel desire. I’d rather rip my heart out... I’d rather go mad, My only wishes are for all the things I’m not meant to have. I’m well aware, You won’t see my face again. You’ll never know just how deeply grateful I am. In my blossomed gardens of fantasy, All those masked sins of sensual cruelty. I hear you, I feel you. I taste the sweetness of your innocent whisper... And no dagger could have stabbed me deeper, Than the thought of watching you go away. Sharp nails on the door... ‘Stay, stay, stay!’. Untamed, dominant, My guiltless smile, oh, so radiant. Emptied horizons of an unattainable bidding, Of what’s left of a bestial, inhuman, sanguinary craving. My thriving illusions of deep belonging...