Ivy Shrine

Intense, overwhelming, burning to life a feeling like being held to a knife.

Teetering between lust and despair, I know, I know, I know that you care.
I position myself on my knees at your feet, hours may pass yet I don't feel defeat, in silence I grow in my dark damaged mind the stillness shows me my path all entwined

In the cracks of old ivy bound to a shrine here in this moment I'm yours and your mine.
Sir I beg please don't leave me here, it's not you that I'm scared of the ivy I fear.
I fear it will twist wind and contort over my body as if just for sport, As its tendril like roots take a hold in my cracks pushing apart what can never go back,
Crumble I will left here alone while you sit there sir high on your throne.
The moment I feel my soul  to break up on my feet you hold while I shake, you nurture me close my head to your chest your heartbeats slow as you get me undressed,
Rather than lie me down to rest over your knee for three of your best
I thank you Sir for being so kind bringing me to life from the ivy shrine