Merciless

February 13, 2012
Same as I, he does not feel.
I am stuck on the spinning wheel,
of fate, of which I know not.
In the crushing web, I am caught.
A quick release, for which I pray.
No release comes, to my dismay.
The spider crawls, closer still,
with it's poisons, my body fills.

The deep, hot blush,
the heartbeat rush.
Pride refuses to show the signs,
as it knows, he shall not be mine.
But I am his, I must confess.
At his will, merciless.





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