shay
Posts: 63
Joined: 11/15/2004
Status: offline
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FAILURE OF A MISTRESS
he had been clay in Her soft hands, to mold, to form, to understand. She's shaped him with such loving care. Believing he'd always be there.
She put in him that traits that She Cherished, loved, felt were the key. But when the boy at Her feet knelt, he couldn't see the love She felt.
She'd molded him from stuff so rare. his blue blue eyes, his soft soft hair. Although he knelt there as a slave, his eyes showed hurt he'd not forgave.
his tears were formed from Schendi rain, floods galore and full of pain. his touch was harsh as barren sand. he was no slave. he was no man.
She twisted him with demented pride. She'd put no heart deep down inside. She'd made the crop and whip a crave. he took that lust to his grave.
She'd given him no loyalty but a firm desire to be free. In Another's hand he might have found the slave inside, a heart so sound.
Now She cannot even call his name. She's none but Herself to blame. She closes eyes and sees his face, upon Her heart, She can't erase.
Now his lost soul has journeyed on, She must accept that he is gone. he had been clay in My soft hands, but somehow I failed, understand?
~*~THE END~*~
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Failure of a Mistress - 
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