Monday, August 2, 2010

DMT: Death (Mature)

Mature Content

the end can be so attractive
as we're rutting in the sand:
the end of innocence and lonliness
as long as you're holding my hand.

the end can be so merciful
as we push against the grind:
the end of pain and suffering...
in these death is kind.

I'm finding death so beautiful
I want to hold it in my arms,
strong and subtle and lustful
disregarding logic's alarms.

it's pulling me in closer,
and I don't want to resist.
there's no panic in my eyes
when clothing ceases to exist.

I'm finding I'm growing harder,
to rutt between its legs,
I'm finding myself on my knees
and I didn't have to beg.

Death lays there presenting,
waiting for my spear.....
she's so tight within her hide,
but I feel as if I'm the one to tear.

she is clearly bearing
a baby in her inside.
it screams pleasure as I stroke,
it strokes my piercing hide.

there's nothing quite like coming
inside the belly of the beast---
but, to the unborn monster,
I was quite a feast:

it drank me 'til I bled,
though all felt like come to me.
I fucked Death, but instead
the mother devoured me.

it felt like an orgasm
when it ate my soul,
and I left behind no carcass---
playing the monster was now my role.

now I lived in Death,
it fed nutrients to my core;
I swam inside her ebony,
all the bliss I could endure.

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