Why?
Swirls of incense fill the banquet hall, the swelter of feasting revelers mingles with laughter and desire. But I, I see him alone, attired in raven black. Imperiously he raises a goblet of scarlet kanaar to us all, his piercing eyes full of lust. The heat rises. My skin burns. My hands tremble on my crystal cup. ... ah, how I wish you came to tear the cup from my grasp and rip the clothes from my body and bear me down with merciless strength ... come, force apart my thighs, impale me on your pulsing manhood ... make me convulse in painful abandon and with your hungry mouth drown my screams ... "You´re dreaming, Elim! About whom?" His smiling words pierce the haze. "You, Lord Tain," I dare, again. And as always watch his smile fade, his stare turn to ice. A silent rejection harsher than any cruel words. Hundreds of eyes alight in triumph, few with pity. And they all ask what on times uncounted I have asked in despair. Why? |