Ouroboros

Picture this…

Black smoke spewing from your mouth, inky snake, red eyes ablaze, entwining, winding ’round and ’round, contracting ’til the breath seeps from your body;

As bones crack, and eyes bulge, this Snake of Darkness kicks you with its tongue of flame, the scorching forks causing your loins to ignite even as you die of fright;

Before the light sputters out and you lose your sense, the Ouroboros of the Night retraces its slithering steps, and from the burning blackness of its maw it gives you back your breath, prolonging the blissful torture of your death…

This Black Snake, it lives within, coiled in your abdomen– that emptiness, that black and hungry pit, that is the Snake within your stomach;

You know the feeling, you’ve felt the burn, that crippling compulsion born of need of which the Lovers of Light know nothing, and in which only in secret, sinful whisperings have they heard…

Serpent of the Savage Garden, you lurk within our midst, feeding off the Light, sucking it from our souls with your Dementor’s Kiss–you do it through exploiting our needs and compelling our actions, through the harm we cause one another you derive your satisfaction…

Your seed are the Broken, who feed off the goodness of others because you’ve taken all their own, leaving behind only the truth of a heart gone cold–what an inner winter these ones have come to know;

Progeny of Darkness, Legacy of the Night, craving sunny skies while glorifying their hellenistic plight;

You need them and they want you, and so continues the vicious cycle of the fool, like the Snake its tail devouring–Ouroboros of the Suffering…

Those who orgasm even as in agony they squander away their life…

My, what a surprise, you’re one of the Broken, it’s funny how we think we’re the exception to the rule;

Now humbled, and torn between two Masters, which one will you choose?

The extended hand, or the Snake wrapped ’round your leg?

Oh, but how I love the feel of that slippery flesh…