When I’m on my fours and there is no remorse;
You come from behind like the darkness in the wild.
Snarl at me and stab me gently, for the night will not glide.
Tear the ridges of my fingers, thorough their gaps I will slide.
Treat me not mild and easy, for moderate is a symbol of passé.
As you climb on me, my legs tremble and my bones crumble.
Take me for a ride, for I shall die with some pride.
As I watch you devour my soul, you take me back to the black hole.
My heart does pound; I will run until you start to hound.
Feast on my flesh as I serve thee something fresh.
Start with my lip, run through the tip and don’t stop with my hip.
As lay on a bed of grass, your body shines like a throne of brass.
Oh dear, as you go down, so does the sun.
As I watch you enter the temple in the center.
As I look for places to hide, you start to fill my cup inside.
Destroy the evidence of my life, from the ashes I will rise.