You call yourself a Monster.
You say are you are beast.
A beast created of lust and wrath.
Release in many forms
Tears willingly caressing your cheeks
Distress often lingers in your undertones.

Tell me sweet pet,
What kind of beast are you?
Are you the beast of unquenchable blood lust?
or perhaps merely on coincidence.

You call me the Mistress of your dream scape.
You say I haunt your waking hours.
Could this be called adoration?
My taste lingers in your mind.
A sweet spiced honey mead.
Am I that intoxicating?

Eyes wide shut.
Seeking new reality.
Perhaps its merely pure indulgence.
Seeking refuge from the daily grind.
Just like a new harvest, a new strain.

Relax my pet, Let my words flow over you.
Relax my pet, Let me caress you.
If not your body then perhaps your mind.
Scream if you want my dear,
In your head, only I can hear you.

A sanguarian tide will wash it away soon.
Just another erotically primitive dream.
So dress me in your shades of indigo and crimson.
Desecrate this shrine as you would.

I am a manifestation of your own demise.
My words, the destruction of all you are.
I am nothing more then a mirage.
An image derived of pure passion.
I am the Mistress of your Desire.
Created in your image.

I am your dream girl,
The one you can only find in a fantasy novel.
Strained by realist ideals.
Punished for an idealist dream.
Replacing one bondage for another.

You claim you are a monster.
You call truth to the fact of being a beast.
Dear Sweet Delicious Pet.
How can this possibly be?
When I am pulling the strings.

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