Friday, January 6, 2012

Monologue of Dominance: To A Woman

Lady, you're in my parlor now -
Come ye most precious and fair!
Let me put some pins in your hair,
Bead them up and shine them bright
And tie them up to the dark night

O come hither my darling, to me,
My arms of dazzling delights,
Come here and you shall find
Fair weather blossom kissing them
To woo the gentlemen and the knights

Come my lady, let me lay a hand on you -
Let me, O let me add a blush for you;
A blush made of fire and blood,
O let me pour them on those bossom
of heaving souls, young and old

Hark ye the slander, the soulless
Voice of defender, blindfold thy
Heart to hide the secrets meandered
For I've got the scarf of disguise
To wrap your Lady Consience to demise!

No my lady! Don't be so startled
Question your inner quiverings
And you will find, the ageless
Cravings of sqeezing spasms
That runs this world asunder

Kind, O how kind my lady's eyes are,
What a blasphemy in the scene 
Of this hour. I'll put my potion
boiling at once! And begone those
Seeds of dunce. 

And here we are, my sisters at aid -
Shame, Lust, Sex and Power: My slaves.
We stain the warps of Time and Minds
And feed the reaps to the foetus of
my Goddess... for she's wilfully blind

Blind and Beautiful! Hail the deity
Of the infinite divine,
The eternal bind of Mankind!
Builder and sustainer of 
Hearths and sanity

I toil for Her Godliness
To reap and feed her seed
Blood and fire, brothed out
Of the constant myre of greed
Born of the stain of Time

O how sweet is the taste my dear,
Of thy pure femininity! When I
extract you at Her pyre,
To help the earthlings go
About their frivolity -

Now, now, my lady do not fear,
I'm Greatness incarnate, not a liar!
I toil to be the reason of all reasons
Procurer of the Need and Treason,
My son is Survival

I am God to the Creator, 
Harbinger of elusive Hope,
I keep the illusion of the
Fabric you earthlings cling to
Where you hide and grope

My meddlings keep them busy
And my precious deity
Thrives on the fumes
And fears of the low-lives
That keeps this world spinning

To this you shall aid me woman
For time eternal and serve
To my behest; lend me your strings
To keep men falling, falling to
Grovel and become Orcs 

Orcs of Society - who worship me,
With enslaved sense; lay prostrate,
Before me, my ever consuming holiness,
For I am the Rule by which they survive -
I am Dominance.