The Thrill
The thrill of the kill when you're calling my name,
the feel of the wheel when you're playing this game.
Trying to tame this fame all the same,
with nothing to blame or no one to frame.
You seem so sincere when I hold you so dear,
and with nothing to fear my thoughts are so clear.
Below me you squirm just like a worm
But with feelings so firm, we play on my terms
Life slowly slips, blood flowing drips,
with faint fingertips, I touch lovely lips
I kiss those lips so soft with love
And then your eyes look up above
Never again will I let you go
Never again will I feel this sorrow.
Copyright © Jacob Mccullough | Year Posted 2010
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