"How to Lust a Queen; King Sutra" imagined, theorized, partly written and typed by: King B. Rite - The Poet/Psychopath

"How to Lust a Queen; King Sutra" imagined, theorized, partly written and typed by: King B. Rite - The Poet/Psychopath    

“Hushhh; say no more” was molestedly mouthed and moaned by the immaculate movements of my unbeloved Zenith the Far Fetched Future Queen of Kingdom, Come… with such statement made I can only suggest that “The Filthiest of All/The Hatest of All” I, Majesty; Nataz Phere: Xhe Xne Xnly Xpereinced Xerxes! will have upon a side of mental wealth and abundance of companionship in the form of health may the souls of us exist in Omni Omega the trustless most respected ODD of all against all those down below that do not respect The Sky Above; lack of trust funds…   no lenience is given…   if I might quote a quote from the Omnipotent; all/non-existence, all/non-immortal, all/non-eternal, infinite, pervading power that can not be TRUSTED due to the shift in the paradigm; with a change in hand, how can any slave be trusted, how can any at all trust a fractured society obviously under the influence of maximum ignorance, the illusion of reality/the reality of illusion: plague of all plagues: Propagandistism! False advertised personalities that self portray to be all that they crave to see, each breath they breathe is based off of commercially friendly mental cleansing; beware of sight it will cause permanent damage to the way a slave seize the moment; mentally scarred and scarred tissue’d… my obnoxious trust issues have a point to make as an Alpha Arch Anarch’ Omega Kappa… I follow no other, as dark as I may be, I am anti-body… pure mind, I have made up my mental matter to never see eye to eye with a slave that can not step up to me and speak what they have read… a thief is a thief if feeling are felt when I touch myself indecently, I expect a brave back to stand up for what they believe in and face the PHERE in me… if no action takes place I can only assume the Vystery of my Vistory is VICTORIOUS to read, Notorious to be… I, “G” no odd before my one knee; selfish respect can go a long way out… I praise the Omni Omega; Inn Me, I Prey to eat the weak and insinuate pain must be felt in order to gain strength, I wish a slave will bring death towards my New Found Way and cure me of my undying fate…   …to live, to love, to laugh to lust…   a vixen such as Zenith should be expected to be unloved by the slaves that once ridiculed, mocked, and taunted a sibling of The Queen of Chaos… Fault pass… not knowing the damage of each whistle with more than enough evidence shown… away with out leave; missing in action is the least of concerns when it comes to New Found Rules and Regulations, lack of consequences post action shows lack of concern is placed upon the grounds of an unfair, poverty bound, place of strict business…   whistle per whistle; an alibi has been written a “Testimonial Theatrical Thesis based on True Emotion influenced by Memory” as strange as it may sound fiction has the upper hand in a debateless argument, mentally I am insulted when slaves claim to “THINK” the process of Evilution: CREHATE or be ate: the process of elimination, determination can lead to dedication… now premeditate how much I can HATE… I rest no case! As proactive as I am I have already plotted The New End… must I continue to write or should I attend to my beauty that deserves a beast, as deserted as I am I desert no more, a drought must take place in order to show that the sands of the unknown do not favor ignorance… propagate my hate with more hate; imitation is the most sincerest form of flattery… Flabbergast me, dumbfound individual that can not take a joke when words spoke are a comedicless attempt to make a laugh out of every action that takes place behind the walls of occupational humor; in the deepest darkest corner, under a dunce is a competitionless bate waiting to be ate… as the sun attends to those that sleep without dreams, the laughing stock is unherd due to the sweat that drenches in the form of fearful live stock; butchered and slaughtered by an onslaught Shepard: I will be pleasured to example the beginning of a memorial invitation to my holy hell with mutual feelings felt I HATE I: “WELCOME TO MY HAIL”   covered in envy… I am smothered in between the thighs of a luscious leading legacy… I legend “The Death of Me”, I Myth the slave INN ME, Phoenix’d… I have, I burn intentionally, internally, for eternally. The heat that hates is pure with intent, I have more than one way to hate a slave… A Thousand slaves, A Thousand Words; lack there of courtesy of dead silence, A Thousands Definitions/perspectives on how to respect the wishes of others, A Thousand… is a metaphorical understatement only to please the mind; short attention spanned, lower than dirt specimens expect all to be glamorized in fructose, coated over with common catch phrases that attract commercial like conformity in order to entertain the pain away, blind by choice all slaves have a choice… as if it was once advertised in fiction in the beginning: temptation will always shine light upon the heads of the weak… as the guillotine shimmers due to the reflection of the flame centered in the pupil of my iris, it sparks a New Found Chapter into groundbreaking heart ache… off with the over grown heads that have no dirt on a king; ironically humorous it is to have more dirt on my assailant… my ship has once wrecked, I fear no reaper… I am now keeper, I found the light from within side out, dare to assume other wise and I will be provoked idealistically, ballistic, maximum ammunition, I ignite my ignition into ever lasting wick; half wit, brickless heart… a transplant is in need: fist for face, facially I’m clinched in between a pie eating contest that requires teh undivided attention of my twisted tongues… I begin to eat my own heart out of love making foreplay, I do not apologize for writing my way in, while I lick the moistness lips of my beloved’s center of attention… as disgusting as my tongues they twist and turn her upside down… a spasm attack reaction to the way I hiss my multilingual speech… “what a peach!”   With my hand I have placed underneath her solid thought existence I cradle her shadow to show I will always catch the darker side of her first, I grab a hold of her assets, quite qualified to take it as advertised in a rear end accident waiting to take place upon a rainy day absents, I lick up and down her back side to front side… a stronghold lifts her off her back to take out the stabs that were once behind by cowards that can not face intimidation. As far as my tongue can reach I continue to puncture your clit with the tip of my words. As read as they are I squeeze tightly upon the lower region and lick away the pain. Tasting Vistory once again bitter, sweet and spicy her way of expression can candle me into an analogy in the form of a wishmaker:   “BLOW ME” -Candlestick     Off her back she tosses me over, sun is yet to shine light, I erect another page into Valchemy, my ejaculation of emotion will be an orgasmic experience for the non experienced, non sexually active individuals that will be guilty enough to continue to read without sufficient permission: “Tune INN; Born” what is the difference mentally induced with fiction, fantasy, a fetish like fornication.   My sway has my arrogant head upon the bed of roses… with a tilt to watch the way her lips “awe inspire” me to hold in my release for a more rapid sling shot! Critically acclaimed to be untamed: I bring the PAINt and portrait more than the mind can portray… a mural of loveshed: I allow Zenith to stroke my ego into madness; I have practiced alone in Chamber One. Prior to when I became what I will come. Head lifted I think no more, head caved by the mouth of my better half she swallows my pride in order to make room for more to come… out of line, I mind my own business and place my palms on both sides of her mind, to control the way she attends to my needs, selfishly I exploit the way I explode: nightly with each mourn I release more stress than the one who can not stress me out! I laugh out loud… hear me now! - King B. Rite - The Poet/Psychopath