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Poem
Diminishing virtues stripped away
From the flesh
By the fierce brined rods that freely 
Course thy hot crimson blood; 
Dry cracked lips attempting to
Fashion broken words of compliance
That so must needs to be spoken...
But...Ohhh, Meretrix...
My foolish and innocent child -
If you but only could!

Consider, Meretrix,..humility!
To which pleasure one thus 
Submitted
Guiltily discovers:-
The joy in the act or posture of
Lowering oneself in relation to 
Others.
For in your anguished dis-repair
You will find strength to endure and
Embrace:-
The acceptance of all your defects
And ultimate seduction
In the power of your:-
"Submission to Divine Grace"!

I will adorn you in the yellow Toga
Of the Vestal virgins,
They whom wise Augusta did abhor; 
Burden upon you with an Imperial 
Tax
Imposed by perverted Caligula:
Whither all Matronly protestations he
Didst dismissively ignore;
My Tribune forcefully exact -
When employing you in the 
Degenerated role
Of my most reluctant Whore!

Clasp jeweled anklets abouts your
Shapely bones,
Decorate upon you like fired and 
Painted porcelain figurines;
Whilst all the while, as your lost mind
Bemoans,
Choking between involuntary gurgles
And low-pained, stifled screams,
The gagged mouth bites down
Amidst salivating sounds
Borrowed from the hurtling 
Nightmares
Of your darkest dreams!

For I will lift you higher than the 
Tallest mountain peak...
So you may gaze with awe over all
The innumerable Kingdoms and their
Proud tyrant Kings;
Of the many differing species of all
Mankind type things...
And of the immeasurable riches
They so endlessly seek.

Lower you to the solitudes of the 
Grassed floors
That sweep across the sunken 
Valleys deep;
Where, besides enchanted streams, 
Violated Nymphs quietly weep
For Abels broken schemes;
Now, tragically, all taken apart;
And for the wicked callousness
Of fallen man...
Whose desperate greeds ripped out
His live brothers still beating heart -
Then tore at the living throat of 
The one true Gods Holy Lamb!

TO BE CONTINUED...
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