Ok Slow and Jess...ya'll are having a battle here...very good to say the least...I don't know who is winning...ya'll are both good.

Taste this:
From the ashes of forbidden passions
Rises the Phoenix, unbidden.
Tumultuous clouds adjourn
To the wastelands of medicority.

The Siren song of searing flesh
And lustrous sighs echoed
Arouse the slumbering Eros
From it's desecrated grave.

To taste the salts of corrupted sensuality
To hear the thunder roaring in one's chest
To breathe the fires of rising tempo
To exist within the flesh of others.

This is your hell.

égrappent silencieusement la proie et grignote le chaton sur la nuque du cou

ronronnement poussant la joue avec des pattes

There is only one hunter who can catch this prey, and nibble on her neck, and sorry Satan....


You'll have to be content with the word jousting.





He knows who he is...

Satan says, Let him burn!!

You have his soul - he cannot escape.

il fait chaud

draw him close and show him summer in the inferno
and be glass in my kiln where sweat laughs away
in an instant

this furnace takes coal by the shovel load
and the hearth is bottomless
look down and see forever together

Pas si chaud que cela. Il ne fait que -15 et pleine tempete de neige.

Elle a son ame et son coeur.

C'est tellement froid ici, et la fonte des neiges n'est pas chauffée à partir de ce thread

Le Diable dit, ouvrant La Porte de l'Enfer,

<<Bienvenue à ma maison mes plus chers amis. J'ai ici l'absolution que vous exigez. Entrez! Par mes portes noires lourdes fait à la main avec la tendresse par il qui m'a donné Le Penseur et Le Baiser. Regardez! Ces belles portes lourdes balancent lentement pour écarter au loin avec un gémissement.>>

<<Vous êtes le carburant le plus fin. Pur et fort ces spiritueux sont ceux qui fournissent la puissance à mon monde. Ce feu ne sait aucun effet du survivre à dehors. Aucune quantité de pluie ou de neige ne peut s'éteindre la flamme à l'intérieur. Vous vous êtes immergé dans la mer de l'amour et vos âmes ne seront jamais éteintes.>>





"je l'ai su"

Spiritueux, guide par tous et douche ceux âme
Plus impressionnant le plus impressionnant

Ok, Where is my translator????

Is this my hell, to feel the intent in the words, but not to know the content??


Ahh, the hellish intents, perhaps I shall just be content, to be the prey of my own desire nature, and wander the ether, in inflamed joy.

Intense and content.

S1owhand your just not right see there ya go and tease me more with no pleasing ehehhehe

heh heh heh

Satan is all things to all people.
Here, have a look at my contract.

talking - talking is good
friendly talking over a drink.

then walking, walking and talking....
and looking deeply into their eyes
and longing and feeling
and TOUCHING

just let Lucifer be your guide...

"poetry, read it at your peril"

-s1owhand

a poet, like an exotic dancer,
instinctualy knows how to bare
they become the object of their own compulsion
and though it is a beautiful thing
there are many broken flowers in that field
nurtured through their own tears

a petal missing here, a brown edge there,
the hailstorm of life has cracked many stems
but my bud is also breaking at its seam
and there is a romantic scent within ready
to burst forth on the summer wind

read on our forum and witness it all there
for it holds both

painful pleasure
and
delightful hurt

and when you at last find your gaze drawn
inward where no one else can completely see

borrow my mirror, i say, look into it,

Narcissus

and see all the beautiful people

Tremendously taunting!!!

Slow, you know your good.

Noden a dark being has a deep purple flower for you

and no one says, these bolts may be drawn from my quiver:

hubris, or vanity, or tribalism, or manipulation,
or blackmail, or tongue, or fists, or pettiness, or superiority.

the tongue is also a sword, and it can kill,
and there are many forms of unpleasant death
which exceed the simplicity of traditional armament.

and even a brilliant idea and hope can die of exhaustion
as silence can starve the brave.

the responsibility of arbitration of the worlds
ills is not to be lightly entrusted neither to the
oracle, the pope, nor the majority opinion.

where will you be during the next Inquisition?
will you rush to combat, or ride it out in hiding?
what weapons will you choose and how will you survive?

I will dance with the devil
Show him a few new steps
Blind him with my wild abandon
Until he comes undone
Taunt and tease him with the swaying of my hips
Until he begs for a kiss from my crimson lips
A throaty laugh from my soul as I tell him no
Tossing my chestnut tresses as I walk away
Looking over my pale ivory shoulder as I go
I am the succubus you will never know

Satan says, Weaponess!

Ahhhhh.... this succubus
is not wholly unknown to me
a carbon bolt
long and strong
i feel her sensuously
she straddles my crossbow
shears mithril mail
and pierces even elven hearts
and i call her
desire