In the depths... 


:: A place too dark for comfort ::

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I watched silently...

I stood by the sidelines, powerless - unable to move or speak. 

A silent observer of the crimes commited by him. I had tried to ward him off with logic and impassioned pleas but it was all to no avail. He looked on - intent clearly written in his eyes. 

Eyes that blazed with fiery passion - and a need to corrupt his soul already on its way to eternal damination.

Yet a part of him stood aside from it all - a part that kept all subsequent events in perspective. Like a man at the edge of a cliff that's a long way down - the height is dizzying and yet thrilling, fearful and yet exciting... the situation excited him immensely - becasue it was forbidden, a taboo.

The allure could be the patent combination - the co existence of normally incompatible emotions -like love and hate, lust, passion and the ultimately forbidden.

The darkness afforded him a blanket of security - a protecting screen, masking his deeds, offering itself as a co-conspirator...

 

She lay there... 

Unmoving. 

Sleeping peacefully in the innocence of her ways. Unknowing, unprotected - secure in her apparent safety. In the darkness, you can make out the steady rise and fall of her breast with each breath. The gentle in-take of air and the occasional sounds of the night. The silhouette of the intruder, keeping to the shadows  -  afraid of the light, afraid of discovery.

In sleep, she appears  wanton and unguarded - she was totally defenseless... 

Th quietness of night disturbed occassionally by the distant sounds of dogs barking and howling to the crescent moon. Suddenly, without warning she twists, splayed out like a rag doll - her negligee moves indiscreetly up her thighs... He is at once intrigued with this recent development. To his mind this pose is seen as an open invitation but he must delay - his gratification.

The moon beams filter through a partially open curtain and light up a tiny portion of her bed - it falls upon her feet and gives them an etheral look - her skin looks exquisite in the moon light...

He has the urge to reach out his hands and touch and suddenly, as if they have been given a command, his hands move apparently of their own accord. They look ghostly in the pale light of the moon as they inch forward slowly towards their target... 

 Her hands are spread in a fashion that could be described as  inviting -  her right hand thrown over her unseeing eyes - covering them and shutting out the world.... her left hand lies across her belly and moves with the steady rise and fall of her abdomen...

 

Urged on to greater evil...

I feel the insistent rise of my passion, swelling like a tidal wave - smashing itself against  the rocks of cold logic.  My heart was beating rapidly with the intent of my thoughts - I teethered on the edge of sanity - the pressure was mounting in-line with the silent ticks of the clock that stood by her bed side urging me on - towards my decision and ultimately my fate...

It is said that the best cure for TEMPTATION is to yield to its powerful pull - to surrender. 

 Would I yield?

 

Time to act...

The decision is made. I have committed myself to action - there is no turning back. My heart pounds rapidly and I feel the strain of my intent bearing down upon me. 

Each time I looked at her - I was immesuarably drawn closer to committing that sin. Part of the excitement was the struggle to give into it, while being held back by another side...

She stirs again and moans in her sleep. Moving her hand away from her eyes like she's about to awaken. I am rooted to the spot, the tension of the moment denoted by the slow passage of time...

My mind rumbled as I tried to express my thoughts with Poems of passion - there was a beauty to the poems but it was not on thoughts of love that my mind dwelt on...

It was something cold and dark that dwelt in us all!

I could watch her forever and yet forever wouldn't be enough...

I could yearn to feel her hands or the grazing of her succulent lips on mine on my flesh. 

I could die a thousand deaths at her hands and still yearn for more...

 The gentle rays of the moon lit her up like a prized statue on display - she looked like a goddess among men. The more I stared at her sleeping form the more I was driven to touch...

A perversion - perhaps. An evil - maybe...


 



The need to watch un-noticed or unseen...