My bones are lead, a fresh sacrifice on pain's altar Time is a punisher, laughing at me with its hourly seconds... Hot then frigid, when the door opens and darkness swoops in. Only I feel his breath on my cheek, Like river water caressed by papyrus; Caressing me so, "do you love me so?"
My hands are lead, housing fragile skin that breaks at the glaze of a talon; A drop of crimson for the master, pain is love when he softly coats his tongue with my offering. Listen as he moans every guttural confession I ever desired, but never from him, but again from him.
Feel as his talons curve around my face; My face is silk when he tilts it towards him, beautiful dark lover! My face is obedient wet clay when he molds my smile, My wishes are my tears on the tips of his talons my face is his when I rest on his cold cold heart His embrace is every cold to my cold, that reminds he is me and I am him, in the deepest chambers I ever deny, but hidden never from him.