Valkyrie

What is this torment with which you have laid upon me?

That thou thought that my body would give way to your pressure, and my mind to your temptations.

Avaunt! I am not a pawn, of which you hold such fastidious and imaginary dominion. Thou know'st I am not another man who holds such a lack of resistance to your preened and vain skin. I am not a creature who descends to prostrate on a valkyrie's whim. You shall not pass through this hero's armour.

Thou appears shocked, but do not be mistaken, as I am sincerely impartial to your ways, though be they not of mine or my family's, but you can strike down those who so pitifully claim the role of "knight" and yet fall victim to such petty seduction, that the slings and arrows of the rebellious, the tyrannical, the enemy, would be good fortune to die so quickly, so pointlessly, in comparison to the slow torment of your macabre game. Temptation holds the initial wound of Plecto, Degradation synonymous with torturous Aliquem, and Rejection, the peaceless finality of Capite. Let them suffer for their childish foolishness.

And yet... I find it hard to blame them. Being the superficial beings they were, it was no surprise that they would succumb to your illustrious figure. Your ruby lips, jewels through the eyes of fools, but hellfire to men, a gateway to the depths it represents. Your hair, black brimstone and onyx, shimmering in such unnatural resounding tone. Your covetous eyes, forbidden acid, a drug of the system, emerald jealousy, or an herb to cleanse or embitter, with the gamble of the lack of, and therefore the wont of, supreme knowledge of God's nature. Your nails, a mystical ocean of blue and purple, agate and amethyst, unknowing depths of misery concealed around a rich satin of wealth, a venerable yin and yang, distraught betwixt evils of opposing worlds. And your skin, that impenetrable, luminous, diamond skin, shaken off or concealed the painful stabs of man's stupidity, revealing nothing but the transcendent exquisiteness of a desirable stronghold of wondrous fortitude.

Who has created thou, this precious and deathly gem? Such intertwining innocent beauty and enthralling experience, the Lamb and the Tyger, to form one beyond our deepest fantasy and desire? Would I be so bold in your presence as to beg for you to beckon me closer?

I am yours, mistress who has delved into such passion and honours that our hearts, souls and minds, can fully comprehend and bask in. I seek to want you and love you completely. Sans you I mean nothing, I feel nothing, I am nothing. I don't care that I have become everything I despised, because you will relinquish all my pains, all my guilts and all my regrets, and they will be replaced with nothing but a perfection to rival God himself! And so, I give myself fully to your requiting love. I am your slave.