Scriber's Night Game: Love Torture Me...

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Love Torture Me...

If night does fall as surely will, doth fall on my frailty, expose my inborn weakness. Lies here a man in terrible dream, fall a sacrifice to love; with love torture me. Tell me, why must I be slave on call to your erotic mind, tied with cruelty; unsolved love's sweet mystery? Oh, this ill my flesh... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by scriber at 3:45 PM | add or view comments (12) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
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Earthy poetry, and prose, generally of a sexual nature.

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