PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Simply by stepping out, these whores consent
to anything the customer might want.
Each, as she makes herself available,
empowers and teases my demonic soul,
which rises from my dark depths, dominant,
adorned in all the glory of its rage
(which cannot be described on one mere page)
as she becomes my venue, where I vent
that which, with men, makes me inferior,
repressed within my warped interior,
until it boils up to the night's release.
This damned addiction of mine will not cease:
the need to make her suffer in my name;
her willing validation of my claim
of dominance---proven by her submission;
the loss of her free choice to my volition;
to take her body from her to abuse---
with whip or flogger, welt, or scrape, or bruise;
and then, held in my will as in a vise,
to offer me the highest sacrifice---
the final flowering gift, her taken life,
bled out upon me by this wielded knife.
These whore do this of their own liberty.
Who are you, then, to judge or question me?---
to call me evil, arachnid, and vile?---
how dare you dare to insult my lifestyle?

Starward