the goat
I've made love to sweet Lilith fair,
And danced to the zombies dance.
Run my fingers thru Lucifers hair,
And broken his deathly trance.
I am alive, yet somehow dead,
Awake, yet still completely asleep.
I scream for help, but feel the dread,
Now beginning to whimper and weep.
The hotter the fire, the greater the lust,
I break away and think I am free.
But slowly I am turning to dust,
The payment on which I agreed.
The night is shattered by one of my screams,
I gasp for air, and clutch at my throat.
No, this is not a nightmarish dream,
I sold my life to a man, whose feet resembled a goat.
2007-10-13
07:16:28
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6 answers
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asked by
The Dark Prince
3
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry