Mara
.
I ride as a breath of wind, upon my stygian steed
To quench my unholy soul, and satisfy my greed
My weightless dismount, as an evening fog
has fetched me to your door
Like a key I enter in, I am the midnight whore
Innocuous as you think you are, as you lay in rest
I slither very close to you and grovel on your chest
My corpus melting into yours, a suffocating weight
I sup on you; I fill myself, a feast of lust and hate
Submit to me do not resist, my perfumed pungent smell
For now the lips that you have kissed, escort you to hell
.
.
















KEEP UP THE DARK MASTERPIECE



















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