The Song: A Master's Lament

Author: Bo © 5/20/02

Used With Author's Permission




We lay glistening,
In the crystals.
Under a lava sky.
Our moist salt mingles.
As I brush sand from your eyes.

My mouth suckles,
Your hard nipple.
Teeth pressure with soft bites.
We hear music.
From the ocean.
Waves beat to your sighs.

My hand lingers,
In smooth moistness.
Like a finger picked guitar.
And you vibrate to my stroking.
As my song finds your heart.

My voice fills you.
With its melody.
As my words brush your ear.
Soft con calore leaves you wanting.
As my song brings you near.

Your wrists bound,
By my heartstrings.
Feels the bite of my song.
And I play you so deftly.
Till you cry from the dawn.

You can feel me.
Deep within you.
As my song drives you on.
And its strength is the phallus.
I have you impaled upon.

You feel it building.
Almost painful.
Yet, the pleasure sings like notes.
Of this song to an ending.
You had never known before.

My song brings you.
To its plateau.
In Climatic burning fire.
As our bodies die still wanting.
Just to go one note higher.

Then we lay their,
At songs ending.
Yet the notes linger on.
A soft echo in our lips.
As we brush each others poem.

Then I play you.
Yet another, more ravenous song.
Till you lay their, spent and peaceful
In the circle of my home.

Poem by: Robert Bo Golden (C)5/20/02
AKA MythicPrince/LovngStrength




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