Touch, Dark Eyes, Awakenings, Freedom
By Gwendolen


I watch in silence
while you create
the perfect sword,
powerful and unique;
the finest necklace,
filigrane and ornate.
Your hands,
so strong and sure,
yet so gentle.
They touch the metall
with reverence and care.
I admit, I'm envious;
envious of steel, gold and silver,
because I wish
that you would touch me
like this.

* * *

Dark Eyes

Dark Eyes
burning into my soul
demanding surrender.
Resistance seems futile,
an exhibit of avoidance.
I want to stay free
but it is already too late.
One look into dark eyes
and my heart, my soul, was lost.
Dark Eyes
promising so much --
pleasure and pain
beyond my wildest imaginations.
All it takes
is my surrender.
I want to give in
but fear stops me.
I'm afraid of losing myself
but I'm already lost
in dark eyes.

* * *


I always denied
 that I was a warrior
 even though
 I fought in many wars.
 I buried my longings
 behind walls of disgust,
 righteous anger, and loathing -
 denying everything else.

 It was always easier
 to hate than to love,
 and you made it so easy
 with your rage and fury.

 War has always been
 a part of my life.
 Just like you were.

 And now it's time
 for me to admit:
 I'm yours, Ares,
 I always have been.

* * *


Stifling protocol chains me to my throne,
the narrow rules of conduct
dictating the boundaries of my life.
It is then that I most miss
the freedom of your touch.
I want to loose myself
in your demanding embrace.
Want to know freedom
while you posses me.

I dream of your touch
while they talk about taxes.
I yearn for the feeling of
your cock deep inside me
while they bicker amongst themselves.

I wish you would come
and rescue me from this tedious life -
chain me to your throne or your bed
and keep me there for eternity,
so that I can finally be free.