Satan’s Child

 

Here I lie, Eternal Slut,
Object of your burning lust,
Born to plague you, Satan’s child:
Hated, hunted, damned, defiled!

You, Sir,  are the one to blame
For making me the thing I am.
I could have been an angel if
You’d let me! My entire life

Has been spent trying to please you.
Instead of which, it seems, I tease you
And generate this aching lust
With which both you and I are cursed.

So here I lie, your femme fatale
Farouche and frenzied, soon to be
Your doom, your drug, your funeral—
So long as you keep craving me.

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