Wheldrake
Posts: 477
Status: offline
|
Steel weighs heavy on the soul. The collar girded round my neck, The belt locked tight about my loins, Are not mere tokens of control: Their coldness binds my very core, For steel weighs heavy on the soul. A turning key may be a gate. A half-twist of a woman’s hand, So gentle and so merciless, Became the portal to my fate, Forbidding all thought of return. A turning key may be a gate. Her whisper stings me like a lash. I leap, obedient to her whim And lay my body at her feet. No barked command, however brash Could spark surrender so profound. Her whisper stings me like a lash.
|