Tuesday, March 1, 2022

Poem: "The Curse" by M Teresa Clayton

The Curse
M Teresa Clayton

Sleep, my dearest one, sleep tight,
‘tis only me you dream of tonight.
Nothing shall disturb you here,
Be not afraid, when I appear.

You shall not recognize me,
nor the words I speak to punish thee.
Listen to the words I speak,
‘tis naught for the humbled nor the meek.

But, we both know who you are.
Where you have been and then, just how far
You strayed from this heart of mine.
I have stirred my blood within your wine.
I have written down your name.
I have burned your hair within the flame.
I turned my back from the smoke,
Allowing it to pass, cause you choke...

...on words whispered in her ear,
Watch them change and disappear.
Now unable to scream or shout,
I have chewed them up and spit them out.

Salt and shale my circle cast,
Grind the blackened coals hold me fast.
Cloaked within the finest sage,
Naked I stand now turn the page.

Come forth watcher, Azazael.
I summon thee sweet Jezebel.
One to enter me, into my loins,
The other to ride upon his groin.

Mock the lust and his desires.
Throw his soul into the fires.
And, let him feel the fire burning,
Let him watch as his fate a'turning.

Ride him harder, Eden’s whore,
He’ll not fulfill her anymore.
Azazael, satisfy me here;
The Watcher finished, both disappear.

He’ll release upon his bed,
White he came, and blood he bled.
Flayed the foreskin of his member,
Cursed by the whore, so he’ll remember.

Feel the breeze come out to play,
Rancid smells of your decay,
Awaken you from darkest dreams;
No one there to your screams.

You can call her Succubus,
And, my lover, Incubus.
“Tis the price you pay for the lie,
Would be a pity to watch you die.

Every night as you slumber,
You shall recall each by number.
Every deception turns the wine,
Remember! - Three, Six, Nine - Zi, Nyx, Dwine.

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