He doth gaze upon her with intensity that sears,
Sears even the scorching sun as she finds herself coy,
A fixation and a lingering desire that threatens,
Threatens to burn away his mere mortal soul,
The woman who hath became his very existence,
Yet she is oblivious,
Oh so hidden to the darkened depths of his corrupted spirit,
His childhood willing to justify his opaque darkness,
Cynical and away from the traditional,
His childhood a raging war of screams and bruises,
Broken limbs his trophies,
"Affection" of his beloved parental figurines,
Venom,
Hath wrought this creature before her,
Masked beneath the masquerade and illusion of love,
Truly the Phantom was he,
He doth whisper to himself that control is care,
Care everlasting,
That his need to dominate springeth from this affection,
"Oh one is just loving her, am I not?"
A cruel comfort that he embraces with a wretched smile,
Tightening his formidable grasp on her life,
A smile willing to assault and tear her from within,
Shattering her conscience and walls into crumbles of nothingness.
He doth gaze upon her with intensity that sears,
She is the ruby in the world of weeds and wildflowers,
Eyes hazel with the touch of eternal honey,
Deepened pools of admirable innocence,
Virgin to reality and harsh world,
Her hair a midnight cascade flowing across her smooth shoulders,
One she felt secure within his demonised grasp,
Each glance a whisper of eternal love,
Now,
Each glance a shackle fixating her on the floor,
Each touch a brand of his,
Her laughter once breeze erstwhile free and full,
Her laughter now carries the edge of suffocating dread,
She doth perceived herself cornered,
The walls of his obsession shrinking in,
Her liberty suffocated by the weight of his need,
Each day becometh a new imprisonment,
Her spirit once an array of twinkling stars,
Her spirit now dimming under the shadow of his dominion.
He doth gaze upon her with intensity that sears,
In his mind he is her saviour,
The saviour who shall shield herself from the cruelty of eternity,
By shackling her with his own madness,
By ensuring she never strays from his godly principles,
The words clear to him,
"The world hath been harsh on my beauty~"
"Oh I shall be harsher to protect my beloved~"
Twixt love and possession blur until they were indiscernible,
A dark labyrinth where he is both protector and warden,
Cruelty her gruelling destiny.
He doth gaze upon her with intensity that sears,
Her world shrinks,
Defined by the confines of his desires,
The sensuality that once drew her in becometh a weapon,
Weapon fired against her soul,
The sound of his alluring footsteps now a haunting symphony,
Every kiss a claim and brand,
Every touch a reminder of her captivity,
Every imprint of his fingers against her plump skin,
Every night he rent her garments asunder,
Ravaging them as fire consumes the dark,
Sinking his fangs within her neck bleeding crimson,
Into the belly of the creaking bed they sank,
Her knees sore from tortured labor,
His lingering fingers the Devil's plaything,
Delving into the heaven's nectar betwixt her thighs,
His grip on her hairs iron as he pulled and pulled,
Unyielding a dark symphony of possession and torment,
As she lay in a puddle of ecstasy and shame.
He doth gaze upon her with intensity that sears,
"My Whore~"
Her identity eroding under his relentless need,
She strives to escape within her mind,
But his crimson gaze follows her throughout the verge,
A relentless trident piercing her heart with possession,
As she bled with nectars he relished,
Giving him the immortality he sucked from her gates of heavens,
The corners of her life darkening as the noose tightens,
Like a dying candle in the tempest of his obsession.
He doth gaze upon her with intensity that sears,
Her end is a haunting silence,
Her spirit scarred beyond recognition,
The woman she once was now lost in the shadow,
Shadow of his crimson madness,
Her freedom a distant memory as her soul lays bare,
Naked in his fingertips,
Her heart a shattered and pierced relic of what it once was,
He smiles and stands triumphant,
Believing he hath saved her delicate soul,
While the truth is buried evermore beneath the layers,
Layers of his twisted love,
For she is a prisoner to his branded obsession,
A silent testament to the darkness that consumes her,
Darkness she calls,
"My Love~"
~ Sapphirus
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts of a Loner.
PoetryPoetry written by yet another individual just existing throughout as any other being like any of you, experiencing life and suffocating thoughts.
