I plunge in deep, pushing in hard,
An irony so beautiful that befit an old senile bard.
I feel your wetness and i breathe in that scent,
So soft, so sinuous, so easily to it am i bent.

I feel the pulse, the beat of elation,
The free overtaking of fear, no subject to ration.
I lose myself in the beauty of your body,
so soft the touch of one so haughty.

I growl in pleasure, let out suppressed moans,
I pull out to plunge in again, enticed by your stifled groans.
My nails brush on your heart, something so fragile that owns,
madness engulfs, i thrust in to your bones.

I watch you shudder and lay still,
The gush of wetness, my cupped hands do fill.
I wish you would have understood,
Maybe then now you wouldn't be a part of the sensuous dead.