My Wolf in Sheep Skin
Far and foul is my fall,
for what’s been missing in my soul.
Love-lost and lust lures,
the missing turns into an enslaving curse.
Drink my blood, satiate your thirst.
My first, constant heart burst.
Foxy predator, here’s my wooden sand-clock.
Place it above the fireplace, sift through your given to, by the flock.
Whatever you do to me, I’m sure I’ll get over the shock.
Domesticated men such as me willfully submit as live-stock.
We live to serve your amusement, so make unburdened choices.
Amusing you cancels out all of life’s abundant background noises.
Tighten the leash around my neck for your arousal.
Our lives to be butchered heartlessly are at your disposal.
If anyone acts out, an anomaly, a black sheep’s reprisal.
Deny them the satisfaction, accept another proposal.
Be as unforgiving as you could be, smoke holes in lovers’ chests.
Be awarded a knighthood for taming obsessive pests.
Here on out, hear no one out.
Whatever I was to you, whatever I was ever on about.
Matters not anymore, not to my wolf in sheep skin.
Matters not to me or fellow ex-lovers akin.
