Thoughts Of Sin

Running through their dreams, she's the last thing they think of before sleep, but all she wants is to hear their screams. The nightmare they're all in, is a web trapping and killing them, but all they know is beautiful sin.
Walking in the shadows, she'll be the water to the evil seed, for the desires they try to hide are all she knows. When they caress another's body, she's made sure thoughts will be of her, but still she's not so haughty.
Of course that's not what this is about, these are words of fantasy, the silent screams and shouts. How she'll trap your gaze, inducing thoughts of lust, of her moving in so many ways.
How she could twist and turn, the movement of two becoming one, a passion so hot it'd burn. Pressing against each other, feeling such an ache, something to fill and smother.
She'll always end up with an empty feeling, part of her doesn't even care, she's not really stealing. They cried out to her for, for her to be stuck in a cycle, that will circle evermore.
While she may never have a lover all her own, she'll live a life of pain and pleasure, together all she was ever shown.
The loneliness she'll hide, letting it take over in a moment, what was there to decide? Giving them what they crave, is it her place to expose the truth, and bury each heart in it's grave?
No she can't because, of that hidden tenderness, so all she can do she does. She understands the pain, burying it with guilty pleasure, she can't bring herself to use it for gain.
So relishing in bliss, she'll block out everything else, living in each and every kiss. She'll claim hidden desire, though her real hope, is to set the world on fire.
Not just having will break on her whim, not just having a body sweat from her heat, setting the world ablaze to her is not grim. Watching their flesh melt, hearing their screams, fear's the best thing she ever smelt.
This is the climax of her real fantasy, for now the weak tremble under touch, it will suffice for how she really wants it to be. What's rubbing between is sweat, but what she imagines is blood, dropping onto her making her wet.
As her eyes role back and she brings down her hips, she imagines bringing a knife down with her, looking back she sees love not life leave their lips. But she does not want that temporary love, unlike what that other part prays for herself, permanence of death that'd be enough.