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Every day I die, when the morning light saps my might.
But to stay up beyond the stroke of midnight, where darkness fills me with sadistic insight.
To hold you and to keep you, to lock you up and breed you.
The joys I have when sin coalesces, mixing scents and sweats and fleshes.
Hot and damp and filled with pride until I wrench it away, Yes, it’s My prize... For you to be broken at my hands, is all in this world I’d ever demand!
A simple wish and a simple lust, fulfilled in earnest with every thrust, with all of your breath and all of your life, poured out before me every night.
When the dawn calls I willingly die again, so long as Our soulful necrophilia can recharge cold hearts with violent sin.
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