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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Adult · #1928359
This is a poem I wrote for a comic book, I tried to put together.
Part 1: The Rapist



I’ve watched you from afar.

Through your windows and passed the curtains

I’ve watched you from afar.

Out upon your lawn, with your man so strong

The reveries of you and I can last me all day long.

I’ve watched you from afar.

That is to say, until the day

I struck you with my car.

Back at home, I took you there

and strapped you to my bedroom chair.

And, now...I unhook my bra.

...No more watching from afar.

I gaze into your eyes.

You’re bloody and your ribs are shattered

I gaze into your eyes.

Here, I squeeze my breasts and rub them on your bloody chest.

I chop your tit and nibble it

and force-feed you the rest.

I gaze into your eyes.

I break your thumbs and then I cum

and spread it on your thighs.

A vicious strap-on for your clit

Lined with spikes, it’s black and rigid.

I tenderize and pound away until you too can cum and spray

I slit your throat and softly say...

"I gaze into your eyes.

As you quickly wilt and die

I gaze into your eyes."



-------------------------



Part 2: Anthony Stone



Counting down the ticking clock

from the moment your life stopped.

Waiting til the time was right

to once again reclaim my wife.

Through my eyes, she sits so high

on a pedestal of shining light.

Though my former Treasure’s gone

my lust for her, it carries on.

Into the night with gentle ease

under cloak of shadowed trees.

I travel to the cemetery

where my love is deeply buried.

Up the hill and to the site

I dig with all my anxious might.

Deeper. Deeper. Deeper still.

I strike the box and feel a chill.

Inside I find, the lifeless hide

of my still alluring bride.

I unseal your cold dead lips

and kneel beside to steal a kiss.

Rubbing hands along your corpse

I remove your clothes with little force.

You’re face down-no need to beg

as I spread apart your legs.

I make love throughout the night.

There’s no resistance, you can’t fight.

I whisper that I love you so

Just before I shoot my load.

It trickles down between your thighs,

as I gaze into your eyes.

I return your body, incomplete

Your severed head is my trophy.



----------------------



Part 3: Emily Stone



My spirit carries on.

I thank my killer and my husband

for what they have done.

My mortal life is through.

Cast to Hell, I live and dwell

with my lover, Satan, too.

So, I thank my killer and my husband

for what they have done.

In Hell my driven demon spirit

forever carries on.

© Copyright 2013 Eric B. (e_busch1979 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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