It was in the Dark Room,
where my good Father sat
Our shadows connected and loomed
in the place I
grew up at.
Rigid, and strict
The room had always been —
Midnight, the clock ticked —
the secret released upon
this very scene.
His face was handsome and hard,
but his eyes were warm and saddening.
He peered inside my soul of shards,
and the allurement became
maddening.
He gestured me to the fire
with his books neatly set aside
He, the man, who I’ve always admired
and the cause of
our worlds to collide.
I walked over to Temptation and Sin,
feeling the notion of a pinned butterfly.
The fabric of forbidden seemed so thin,
and bequeath the weakness,
I began to cry.
“It is Fate with the wisest choice—
“Hush, my little child,”
he said with the softest voice.
“The night is young,
and savages run wild.”
He brought me onto his lap,
and covered me with chaste kisses.
His lips on my cheeks were sweet as sap,
but it tasted bitter with such
perfect reminisces.
My fingers brushed his soft dark hair
as I came for an embrace
He gave me his smile with a lustful air
and I leaned onto his chest,
closing up our remaining space.
“Beautiful flower,”
he whispered in my ear.
“You come to me from the Witch’s Tower;
Curses from God that soon becomes
my cure.”
“Damned Father,” I sighed in despair.
“You are already condemned in your blasphemous love.
So let your pleasure be in my care,
and our unison be watched from only
above.”
Slowly and abidingly aroused,
our white blanket lay forgotten,
pass the morality that we, together, have vowed,
where tender touches were
broadened.
The mood rose as the curtains lift
He trembled. “We can’t go on.”
Lies, as our movements became swift
“But you called for me, dear Father.
Your innocence is long gone.”
I know we were both drunk with desire,
and apologies were said with the most hypocritical regret
He groaned with the fiery of hell’s fire,
and I let him because my destiny was
already set.
