The Last Worlds To Conquer


Grabbing at the claimed land that is your mind
The nerves at the tips of my fingers senseless
The skin hardened with the crawling to your feet
Over the world that I conquered
And I wept for there was one more to conquer
Yours
The Claimed land that is you mind
My lips meeting yours like two naval fleets
and in between them, two sea monsters
Thrashing, sensual and terrifying hard against one another
Our eyes blinded by the golden fringed darkness
Our inner-vision blurred by the black-bordered lust
(like funeral paper, heavy, foggy, madness invoking)
We feel around for one another's weak points
For the strongest standing point
And we decide what it is we can afford to lose and wish to gain
All I want is the claimed land that is your mind
It holds something that I want
And I have conquered all to come to you
Come to conquer the pride that has claimed it
So I can free the fog
And wash clean the remnants
And after the battle I will sacrifice to eros
The heavenly little bird mongrel
Who sits upon my shoulder and forces me to claim
That which isn't mine
For the sake of my pride and for no one's real benefit
but I do not weep
For their are always more words to conquer
And your claimed mind will be yours once more
Battle weary and scarred
Although yours, none the less
After  many long battles, we two men, grabbing at each other
Our swords fighting, stabbing, and when fallen
We will go our separate ways
But I shall have a little bit of you
You will have found
I have claimed a little of your heart




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