The face that he saw was shrouded in pain; he deeply inhaled, went on with the game. The show was worth it no matter the cost; he breathed in with cracked ribs before blacking out. Woke up together in each others’ arms, vivid remembrance of this snake who’d so charmed. His muscles were weary, mind turned to mush; back to the game battered pair they did rush. Smiles that promised unearthly delight, heavenly temptations tormented his nights. Little redemption from unholy cross, excruciating pleasure goal of scoreboard.
Her smile so hungry and he tasty snack, once he had entered was no turning back. Neither a free-agent but what did they care? Pleasurable pounding was why the played there. Teammates who trusted and thought all was well were simply betrayed by this couple from hell. Costs to all players was so hard to see and the games gave them pleasure, made them feel free. Played games of doubles and cried out love, desecrating promise made before God above. Promised to honor, uplift and protect, left trapeze partners free fall without net.
Every Sunday pledged partners head off to church while unscrupulous players roll round in dirt. This little ditty dedicated to Christopher Blake, selfish bastard who fermented heartache. Exchanged a diamond for Zurconia pray Moira’s happy though her out you shoved. Mid-age crises are tough indeed but you screwed her both ways from down on your knees. Maybe someday we’ll meet again, until that time, embrace your sin. That candle you lit and let burn both ways, finally scorched you in the bed that you laid.
You made your bed and I hope you are pleased.