The Master of Lovers


Drenched in sweat and his musk,
the faithful slave arches her back one more time
for the heat to penetrate her, to consume her, a conflagration.

The Master of Death, The Master of Endings, The Master of Degradation,
The Master of Diandra's eyes,
seeing through her soft blue pool of pain,
knowing who she really loves.

Love is the drug.
Love is the blood.
Love is the obsession.

The Master of Pain, The Master of Time, The Master of Loss.
Through Diandra's eyes
he sees the romance of the boy she loves.
His own eyes are blind
so he must be satisfied with the young man's screams.

As he empties himself into her
Diandra's eyes squeeze shut,
the boy is flayed again,
and the Master refills himself
on pleasure from the pain.

Christopher Hivner