CURSED

Oceans of my mind I cruised,
Like a toy duck,
Rippling and touching with waves.
I still need an object to inflict my pain.

I’m searching for it,
That God forsaken soul.
I reach the bank and He takes me by my hand.
Warm sand caressing my feet,
Kissing my nerves purgative weeds.

My feet hit the cold rocks,
Sharply knifing.
I shiver in the cold pain.
Sorrow, suffering, pain, defeat.
A burst of light and a pleasure orgasmic.

“That is what it is my child,
Suffering is inflicted pain is kind.
Only pain shall cut open thy soul,
Revel ‘cause your forlorn no more.”