He's not a killer but a cunning lover,
One who loves to play the wicked game.
Intimate bonding like couples,
As in casanova's dark mirage of flame.
He wants her, deeply in control,
Into submission, like a devoted slave.
It's the hunger, the thrill to love hard,
His bride to be, his chosen babe.
Her eyes, imprints upon his face,
Held by love, a prison none can trace.
Every touch, the feeling of raw devotion,
Chained and tainted, a deadly emotion.
Sweet love, painfully romantic,
Utterly disgusting yet feels fantastic.
Intense orgasm, slowly fading deep,
Put away to rest, eternally to sleep.