Belial

I was there

I remember

The raunchy nights

The stale smell

Musk and sex and

Blood spilled

On my hands

On my face

Sweet and sour and

Salty and bitter

My lord scolding

As I crouched

Naked in my ebony throne

Hanging on to his every word

Cold, uncaring

A sensual thrill

I love you

Until you love me

Then purest love will become

Purest hate.