Is It So Wrong?

Passions tumble around

In a brain all too eroticized.

Thoughts so disturbing, intriguing...

They arouse in me such a craving of flesh

As cannot be expressed outside of masochistic flagellation.

Oh, to tie the fatal knot and die;

Oh, to be taken into the bosom of Mother God;

Oh, to be made love to by that divine matron, drinking deeply of Her breast:

My spine tingles, and my prick stiffens.

Would to God that She embraces me so!

Oh, to surrender my body to God;

Oh, to be whipped, burned, flayed apart, and beaten by Her;

Oh, to watch my blood run down Her silken hand

As She carves open my throat:

Such abominable desires for domination, death, and divinity

Lurk in the periphery of my soul!

Sex, death, and God are one in my perverse mind,

And the shame moves me to tears.