The dark caress of Thesnia's sweet lies that trace the arcane patterns on the heart— Whose supple form is quick to blind the eye and bring us to an end before we start. As whispering she slowly plants the seed and paints a carnal image in your head... A pointed tongue creates a mitral bleed that breaks the will and leads you to her bed inciting blood to boil in your veins to mask the common sense that you once knew— That love and savage lust are not the same— and devils merely cackle when you're through to find that your Love's faith has now been lost and courting shapely demons has a cost.
Copyright © 2022 By Keith E. Sparks Jr.
Shadowfall
Comments