Self! The Devil’s Whore (2) Poem by Michael P. Johnson

A whore I was yet felt a queen
Possessed but who could tell?
Deceived on Satan’s arm I’d lean
Along life’s road to hell

He wood me like a lady fair
Aroused, such lust awaked
Tender his fingers brushed my hair
Till all my senses quaked

Fondling places none should touch
His breath warm to my ear
I craved my lover oh so much
And loved to have him near

His eager hands caressed my breasts
In passion, cheeks would glow
No limit to his lewd requests
No depth he wouldn’t go

Both day and night my lover came
I’d sing and dance for love
Aroused, I felt no cause for shame
No thought of God above

With selfish gain he would invade
Ambition’s thoughts would seize
How soon this hateful drunken trade
Would bring me to my knees

With lies I’d paid my lovers price
With lust, seduction’s wage
My lover’s charms at first were nice
Until I turned life’s page

Until that day with great surprise
When TRUTH knocked at my door
Sober revealed through tearful eyes
That “I” was Satan’s whore…PTO…