Infernal Affliction
Published in
1 min readJan 24, 2017
Twasn’t he, the bat-winged one,
Smoldering heap of ash
Twas truly her, the pale-faced one,
Summoner of Devil’s stash
Her feet caught fire at the scrape of love,
Unrequited yet lit to motion
As she drank her darkest fetish fill
Of that stranger devil’s potion
He came by light of an evil night,
Leaving even the stars ensnared
By the ghastly twitch of evil’s sight
Even so, she wasn’t scared
He pinched his way into her heart
Planting embers upon her cheek
She sighed as a siren at the sight of sea
By his hair so smooth and sleek
Enveloped ecstasy of abyss,
Ridden with infernal shivers
Chasing after sweet burning breath
As tongue to skin so slithers
Read more from Immanuel R. Knight
~ And Poetry After Dark
