Godly Fetish

Love drenched hatred,

served on a cold platter 

by a sweet killer.

Hearken not to her

fatal dulcet voice,

that finds way through

her luscious lips

that sing sweet

songs of death to come,

subdue thee.

 

Resist her touch,

her gentle stroke can

arouse your senses

as ye slowly fall

into death's hands.

Look not into her

eyes, lest thine

be incinerated

by her cold stare.

 

Fall not for her,

lest ye fall victim to

her diabolical works.

Repress her charm,

lest ye become an object

of her occasional lark.

For she knows not

conscience, nor penitence.

Author's Note

A friend of mine found this piece somewhat short, do you? I should tell you that I don't like writing long pieces by the way but ironicly, I have a few.