Sometimes pain is pleasure....... |
The winding staircase, rotting floors In darkened rooms behind closed doors ’Neath leaking roofs that let in rain All clad in black, the man who reigns Within a bedroom dark and cold In an armchair damp and old Clutching at a silver cane All clad in black, the king of pain. Behind a window caked with mud Above a garden drowned with flood Within a room of cobwebs plagued Encased in chains of iron made Upon a musty, dusty bed Within the house that I have wed Into the wild, wet winter late All clad in black I lie; and wait. Within those eyes of daggers made Raises a glitter like a blade And in that hand the whip is raised Tearing my skin with a bloody raze And from that body with the crown A vicious cat-o-nine rains down And like the poet with his bells My pounding heart a rhythm knells. And the pacing of his feet In the absence of the heat And in the beating of my heart In a body torn apart And the pounding of his stick Upon the dusty floorboards thick Rises in my heart a quake All clad in black with lips so red he whispers, “Break.” And with the rising of the whip With the feel of skin that rips With the beating of his fist With the giving of this gift With the flowing of the blood Like a molten lava flood With the way my body aches And the way he whispers, “Break.” With the screaming in the rafters Now to die – die now or after – All piercing through my brain And the pain, pain, pain In the salty tearful rain And the chains, chains, chains With which I am restrained Oh the pain, pain, pain, pain, pain. And the breaking of my bones Into pieces, no-one knows Of the sore, sore, sore That does keep my body poor, Oh the pain, pain paean He inflicts as he does reign And the pain, pain, pain shooting through my tortured brain And the crashing and the smashing and the bashing and the breaking of my body that is aching And the pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain. And as it takes a tortured turn All my muscles oh! They burn Like the fire in the briers of the late, late winter night And my mind has took to dreaming and my lungs are torn from screaming with an agonised delight And the music that does borrow with a little broken sorrow echoes through the night And my broken body full of ache Thrills to the whisper, “Darling – break.” And I am broken now, for good, My eyes are bleeding, blind with blood, My limbs are aching, my heart too With the thrill of being with you In this house so full of ghosts This heav’nly prison that does boast The memories of agony We did worship – I and he. The winding staircase, rotting floors In darkened rooms behind closed doors Behind a window caked with blood Above a garden drowned with mud Within a room of cobwebs plagued Encased in chains of iron made, Upon a dusty, musty bed Within this house that I have wed We lie together, love and blood, Pain has never felt this good, In a kingdom small he reigns, All clad in black, the King of Pain. |