Strapped in leather, left alone to let fear and suspense drive you
mad. Your blind
naked
form
wishes for it to be over. To be free.
Freedom is coming. Freedom comes when the shackles are removed.
Bright lights shrink your pupils as ten suns beam down on your flesh
searing skin
noxious fumes waft through the air as blisters
crackle
Fingers scratch white trails along your back, pulling shed skin and
hair in clumps beneath worn callused hands.
Your silence is submission. Your silence is submission.
Your silence is submission. Your silence is submission.
Your silence is submission. Your silence is submission.
Wrestling demons within, your (silence is submission) mind is
driven
by instincts
habits. Addictions.
Pleasures in the flesh have been forgotten.
Mind free of body limits, pleasure releases in the lightning storm.
Pain is all you feel now
Restrained. Pain awakens you.
Bound. Pain steadies you.
Enslaved. Pain in readying you.
Paramount. Pain is all you feel now.
Pain is all that you need now. Pain will set you free.
Your limp body stretches
needles sharply pierce your flesh as you shift again.
You are healing. Pain is lifting you.
Waves break as bones pull taught your (silence is submission) skin
Ripping scarred flesh. Opening old wounds.
Draining you onto the killing floor.
Freedom is coming. Freedom comes when the shackles are removed.
The shackles lie empty but for flesh. Your shackles are empty but
for flesh.