The ministry By Nate sempiternal She grabs my ministries. I'm baptized in a holy divinity. Piece by piece I'm taken over by an overwhelming deity. My Thoughts transgress into sinful desires. I bathe in the blood of retribution and rinse off in the fountains of darkness. Cast your shadow upon my light. Turn off the brightness. My demons take over the night. I love to play with them. No one ever dares to tell the full truth they just hide in it. Sugar coated headphones society puts a damper on my intelligence. Sugar coated society. Everyone is a critic to who I could be. Gay, straight, bi, trans, or cross dresser I will be who I see fit to be. Paralysis plagues human kinds mind. But it can not ever settle too into mine. Words in the light hold different meanings in the dark. Tell me who taught the first dog how to bark. Or the first person how to park. How'd they truly build Noah's ark. She lifts my ministries and begins to take part of an archaic form of pleasure. I'm un-phased, she takes it up a notch I bring her back down. Just because I wasn't moved didn't mean I wasn't amused. I lay her down and partake in her ministries. She moans groans convulses and dies. Her body lump from a sudden burst of pleasure. Such a bore I roll over and finish myself off. She stops me drops me and devours my head of commonalities. She releases my frustrations and all my fucking temptation return back to me. We siege the kitchen with lust and destroy the living room in a rush. My bishop takes her queen and becomes her king. We dominate the bedroom leaving dead garments torn to shreds like a bread train to our victory. The flames die out and we both die intimately.   We roll over and fade off. The love is fading. My emotions have truly left me physically.