|
My world is naught, Soul is ripped, Caught. . . . Caught in this web Of unrequited Love. Your grip is strong. . . . Stronger than The weakly grasped threads Of this reality. Pulling, ever pulling me to you. We play the game. . . . The chorus begins. Few for me. . . . Many for you. . . . All look on in delight As the contest continues. Sight is fading, fading fast. Torment continues. . . . Can't go on. Lost, alone. Mesmerized by you knowing stare. Drawn, As the moth to a flame. Caring not if I'm consumed. Driven. After all, Isn't that my aim? Ripped apart, For all to see. I go willingly, Blindly, To the consummation of my desires. . . . Kneeling before you. . . . I wait. Wait for your precious Coup De Grace. I shiver with pain and delight, Your grip tightens. . . . Merciless, unrelenting. My heart is ripped, This life ends. Quickly, quickly, my darling. . . . My darling, My Kali-Ma. |