Cenobite

I can cut your flesh with a blade.

Just as easy as I could cut your soul with words.

The hidden fears and unrequited loves that flow in the tears.

The sweetness in your suffering is there for me to see.

Such a fertile playground of pain and pleasure.

Perfection personified.

All you need to do is call and I’ll come.

Maybe you will as well.

Ecstasy in the labyrinth of rhyme.

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