Once upon a time a lovely maiden did her chores
She cooked and cleaned and washed and dried and wiped down all the floors
And though her Lord looked down at her, ironically this man
Would force himself upon her because when you’re Lord you think you can

He used her for his twisted games, he thought it was alright
Sadly she just let it be, so she could feed her son at night
And so it went for years and years, till finally one day
Her son grew up and saw the truth, saying that “this man must pay”

Despite his mother’s cries and pleas, the son could not forgive
He told her she deserved much more, this was not a way to live
His mom, you see, quick to agree, would never punish him
Her heart was her worst enemy, enabling Lord to live in sin

So the son approached the man, he stood much taller than Lord did
As the Lord said “hello boy, you’ve grown so much since just a kid”
“I know,” son said, “it must be strange, to be on the receiving end”
“Of the games you play at night, I bet your wife won’t comprehend”

“Won’t comprehend the things you do, to satisfy your appetite”
“I can’t imagine how a person does this and then sleeps at night”
“At least it doesn’t matter now, because I give what is deserved”
“What’s that,” you ask? “To be frank, I really hate to touch a nerve”

“But since we’re here I will be clear, this might begin to sting a bit”
“I’ve wanted this for oh so long, because you’re such a *******”
“It’s my turn now, so turn around, this will not end quick I must say”
“This won’t be fun, and when I’m done, this broomstick will make sure you pay”

You make the jokes and I smile as to say sure
Maybe right
And we move onto another topic is discussion
No harm no foul
But you don't see the tears in my eyes as I fall asleep
You can't feel the weight in my heart very moment of every day
So what can I do besides smile when you kid
Do I dare tell you the truth
That what, I'll never be a bride?
Or that women with psychotic tendencies make terrible mothers?
You ignore my warnings
Simply turn them away
And if only it was that easy
If I could loose them like butterflies on a gust of wind
But I'm like an infection you've caught
I'm toxic
I have violent nightmares
Both dreaming and awake
I can't dance or cook or be anything you hope to have
So I don't know why you continue to hold on
Although I hope you never let go
But that's what infections do
Until they **** you

Stretch marks along your thighs
Stroking your legs up to the heights
Making you moan in your short tights

I love it when you grab it while I,
Enjoy the sweet melody in your heart
That drums beating harder together
Along with the sweat we making when,
We're making love under the moonlight.

Not that I enjoy scoring every night
Taking you placing where you've never been
Lust in the shore and making it sure that enjoy time
Lasting longer than Netflix and we chill

When God indeed
rubs a forehead with luck
what on earth can hide that?

For how long, how far
eclipsing on the way
can the clouds roam high?

The wind will blow
and will rain them down.
Ah, the pure blue in luck,
in abundance, up in the sky
always shines out!

That's a trait of the eternally blue
The lucky colour sets the better backdrop
for the shimmering sun in the sky.
Luckier is a man with a righteous wife!

When a man loves his wife he loves himself
I have heard it said
and I’ve read
of the interplay
of self love and love of another.
Can I love my brother, cherish my mother
if I do not accept myself?  
I’m still unclear which comes first or if this dilemma
circles and confounds
and will puzzle me forever.  

But I know with sureness when I love you
you soften and look at me with those big brown eyes
and sometimes I think I detect mist there
and when I run my fingers through your hair
I know your complexity and gentleness.
When I embrace you I know the fullness of your heart
that you loved me from the start
but even more now my precious one.

Maybe being a man this paradox of the circle of love
will never be mentally clear
but in my heart I know, my dear,
my love for you makes me me.

To captivate someone the way
You do
Is an art form many never learn to master.
With eyes deeper than the Marianas trench
Your being
Just draws me like a moth to a flame.
To make someone feel the way
You make me feel
Makes me wonder how many ages
You've experienced.

A soul so ablaze no person would know you and not be warm.
The strength of nations upon nations
To carry the weight of the world and
You still grow.
The confidence and grace that
You move
With, can't even be challenged by Aphrodite herself.
With cheeks if crimson and eyes of ice
Your joy
Makes the rest of life seem baron.
Leaving me
wanting
Craving
Thirsty
Starved
And lucky
To know a woman of your sheer
Prowess.