Filthy Masterpiece
Filthy Masterpiece
Perfect in the eyes of the beholder, but flawed throughout the years...
Lost in the laughter of his grinning precerverence, but still shedding tears... And his ice hard blue eyes cut right thru my bare naked skin...
As he softly kisses my neck and my guard wears down too thin... With his virile features and skin the color of fresh powdered snow...
Mirrored by perfection with his seducing baritone...
He's the vital divine in such demonic form...
And every compliment in repayed by the frutation of the whore...
And he's arrogant in his mind, but treats us like a queen...
And his hard liquored kisses are perfectly candy sweet...
Abusing his privilages and taking advantage of the passion...
With three little words and grammar adapted to enhancing...
He's all I've ever wanted, yet something I'd leave behind...
He's just so volatile and I cannot let him see me cry...
I feel filthy lying in his T-shirt wrapped in bedroom sheets...
And although I know I shouldn't take it, he grabs control of me...
As he condemns my mind and corrupts my every waking act...
I just take my pain and drag it along my scorching back...
I find myself degraded, now on my dirty hands and knees...
As I suck the innocence and leave you empty (be my disease)...
I throw myself away forced into his filthy erotic slavery...
Not willing to refuse the solicitation so I just compel myself to bleed...
But I'd do anything for him, so I let it slide past my rotten shame...
And although I pleasurize, inside my empty soul, I dig my grave...
And as he fucks me up and leaves me tired, worn and thin...
I disguise my crying eyes with a fragilant and blissful bearing grin...
For I just take my limp and fragile temple and lie myself to sleep...
I am forgotten and lying all alone drowning in this filthy masterpiece
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