To My Femme Fatales & Virginal Vixens…
I open my heart…my mind is overwhelmed.
Comeforth O’ Spirit…play for those damned.
Make haste inner feeling, bring forth charm,
cater the fair maiden’s lust…dare not harm.
Her father awaits ye bastards’ final play…
so play fair and thy deeds will charm another day.
Mortal trepidation fills immortal flight…
destined is the mind to entice
a fair maiden’s fancied delight.
Like a sporadic nerve,
one hundred fold to the ordinaire’,
ladies that play better beware…
the inner feeling is a wolf spirit…
a howling heart,
piercing the womb with a lustful, vibrant, sinewy dart.
Forsaken with such a burden of pleasure;
such a horrid interpretation of a man’s true measure.
Such a rule,
mere mortal man am I,
I dare not be so cruel.