Bend these knees for me, kneel calmly,
Join your
palms for a silent obedience,
Whisper gently
what remains of our prayer.
Before the
shrine we sinned so many times,
Head down,
voice low – still calling me,
My little
sinner, this time I won’t join.
My sermon
is not holy,
I am the
devil you refuse to worship when the others are around,
You pose
as a saint until I touch your hands.
My altar
calls you every evening,
Like a
magnet I draw your body when we are apart,
I am the
confession you refuse to make,
Yet you
beg for me when you are alone.
…
I possess
your thoughts like a hungry demon
Waiting to
devour the purest soul,
I am the
sleepless nights you spend alone,
Begging for
the taste that burns your soul to ashes.
Oh, my
little sinner, now is not the time.
My senseless
behaviour – a succubus unleashed,
I am
driving you mad when I decline to answer
Until your
knees hurt to numbness,
Until the
game I like is running wild.
…
Your desires
fuel my absence, your intoxication makes me feel Godlike,
You sin
and then I forgive you,
I toy
with you until your body gives in.
Oh, my
sweet delusion, I am neither a goddess nor a devil in disguise
I am the
answer to your dirty wishes – I use you like you used me too.
I have
built this church to lure you, to drive you crazy, just to have revenge.
…
My chapel
calls you and here you are – crawling back for more,
Head
down, hands pressed – it’s not prayer this time.
The things
you whisper never reached the sky,
Your voice
entwined with mine – a calling never meant to last.
Oh, my
little sinner, now unable to tell more lies,
Your faith
collapsed, your body meets again mine.
You kneel
for me the way you knelt for him, saying the same oaths,
This time
lost within my quiet blaze.
My shrine
will keep these secrets as if carved in marble stones
Your faithless
chants dissolve where my soft breath touches your lips.
And in
sacred hush you yield beneath my cold touch,
Your breath
uneasy, your devotion turning thin;
I look down at you – to watch you fall within.
