Gods of old.

Locked in the bone-crushing embrace of our bizarre mating ritual we dance on the broken glass of our fantasies, letting our souls entwine, bodies burning with lust, love and passion thrown away to be replaced only by animal instincts. Taste of my own blood on your lips poisons every kiss you bestow upon me with false promises of new life and never-ending pain. Beads of sweat rolling down your skin, trailing every curve of you naked form, caressing you, disappearing beneath my fingers as if absorbed by my touch. Bittersweet aftertaste of wine we drank years ago leaves me tingling when i lick the tears off your face every time we make love, clouding my mind and yet making my senses sharper at the same time. Like wild animals we dance and howl at the moon, laughing in the face of God, mocking the very world He created to torture us, to show us how insignificant we are in light of His greatness.

Nothing ever changes here, nothing dies and nothing is ever born, it is almost as if time does not exist in this place of lust and sorrow, and even the outline of your body on the bed never fades away, and it embraces me with eagerness not unlike that of an impatient lover. Longing for a complete quiescence i even still my heart and stop breathing, voiding my lungs of air for as long as i can. Though hardest part is always silencing the mind, gathering all the thoughts and images and memories, and locking them away in the darkest corner of my subconsciousness for the time being.

Tonight though they refuse to be kept at bay, and push my hands away, resisting, clawing, biting my fingers until i bleed and, at last, give up. I abandon my futile attempts and let them roam free, doing what they please. I remember how i used to try and make the thoughts go away before, by swallowing poisons, slashing at my body with razors, but all that only brought a momentary relief with no permanent results. Intricate patterns on my arms and chest remind me of those days, making me smile at times, realizing just how useless it all was.

Only you can set me free now, only you know the secret to capturing angels in the nets weaved of moonlight and strips of skin you cut from my back with your nails. We tear their wings off for fun, and their cries of pain and anguish are the sweetest music to my ears, as we gorge ourselves on their flesh and blood, making this night an orgy of every imaginable sin that has ever existed. It shall be remembered for centuries after, spoken of in hushed tones around fires, until one day humanity will name us heretics and burn us at the stake like so many before us.

But tonight we are the gods, we are the masters of the universe, it all belongs to us to cherish or destroy at our pleasure, and we delight in power, drinking our fill of it, until we collapse from exhaustion and fall into the deepest kind of slumber men call death...