Cruel mistress,
feeding on blood and pain,
I watch you inflict your desires upon the willing, the yielding. There is no sound but I hear them all the same, wincing from skin singed and battered, your fangs bared in your sadistic smile, eyes glistening with malice and lips shined from voraciously lapping up their tears.
You wind and twist your body perfectly sculpted with starfire and cool masterful blade, dancing to some grave melody of malevolence and grace. You look at the lens like it is mine own eyes, the cold light in them cast by an unearthly fire. You do not smile, but flash your fangs to call my flesh to your sharpened bone.
Yet I cannot stop watching.
Somehow, I feel as if you see it, tasting my lust on your tongue. It only compels me, wishing your jaw would clamp around my throat, tearing it asunder. My body shivers with excitement as my mind frightfully considers being crushed under your heel, feeling your claws, hearing your mockingly soft coos, gasps, and playful laughs.
I am but a dead angel trapped in a body wishing to play with yours. Pluck the feathers from my wings and use them to clean your teeth, I have no need for them anymore.
Choose me to entertain you for but a bit, for as much and as long as you see fit, to make this worthless existence be relevant.
Cruel mistress,
Permit me to play with your demons?
-a poem by @DaedalusKalais