Cry her a river of tears, at least for her entertainment.
Drink a gallon of water when you think you’re running out.
She can’t help but enjoy your torment…
Not her fault that the veil’s coming down.
Dark skies weep for you.
It’s such a shame knowing what you have done.
You are now a lady’s fool;
Wearing a cap with bells as your crown.
Her mischievous eyes string your soul.
You’re a vessel without a heartbeat.
The music she plays is a rendition of her control…
I hope you can bear the heat.
You gave the essence of your being to her.
Is your life worth nothing to you?
Now she parades the streets wearing you like fur.
My friend, you’ve been used.
She knows you delight in being her puppet
so she built in you a masochist to satisfy her needs.
Your morality will die at the sound of her trumpets,
and your infatuation mutate into a disease.
Written: Thurs. 15th June, 2017