She said it like a prayer,
Never so beautiful,
So wicked,
So hallowed.
She said it like a cry,
A plea to the priest,
A call to the callused.
A hym that only he could answer, with lips and tongues and immortality thinly-veiled as piety.
And so he answered there, between her thighs
With reverence,
And hungry eyes.
And a vow to save her from these cries.
But he is the God, the god who lies.
YOU ARE READING
𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋
PoetryThis love was cast cruel, this love was not kind. But in all, she still loved him. For with him, love was blind. Poems for the damned. If I am to be hurt, then so must you. Copyright © TheFallOfArtemis
