I'Ve Sought Comfort In My Own Depression

Curled like an embryo, pour that good brun, A matriarch's girth to soothe at the head, And await cataclysmic sensation This shallow existence merely feeds on, As one should deflower the newlywed, Curled like an embryo, pour that good brun The calling evokes tantalization, To slit or shorten with some shears the thread, And await cataclysmic sensation All sensory functions raptured for none, Oh, my dear, bludgeon me with a spearhead, Curled like an embryo, pour that good brun You rap at my door: a ****'s seduction, Sweetness, repose in this conjugal bed, And await cataclysmic sensation Take another face -- you shall be kissed again, A malicious perversion, a godshead, Curled like an embryo, pour that good brun, And await cataclysmic sensation