Their eyes shall join those others
That stare out of the gloom;
The famished and the weary
That haunt each smoky room,
Longing for but a moment
To quell the raging fire
That burns the heart to ashes
In the furnace of desire!
Blackcock Vintage Rimming. Behold, all around you;
Eyes eloquent but mute,
Searching, staring, longing,
Unable to refute
Their consuming hunger,
The undying fire
That burns and keeps on burning
In the prison called Desire!
Each night somewhere they gather,
The so-called unattached
And there rehearse in silence
The lies that they have hatched. “Come!” The serpent beckons,
“I swear to set you free
From that irksome shackle –
Responsibility!
Far from fear and burden,
Out on my astral plane,
Lost in the firmament,
Safe from the demon pain!”
At last a word is spoken,
A sacred, solemn word,
Distinct and oft repeated
But little more than heard
. . The one-piece split widely between her breasts and had many pink weaves straps holding them from revealing her breasts
Their eyes shall join those others
That stare out of the gloom;
The famished and the weary
That haunt each smoky room,
Longing for but a moment
To quell the raging fire
That burns the heart to ashes
In the furnace of desire!
Blackcock Vintage Rimming. Behold, all around you;
Eyes eloquent but mute,
Searching, staring, longing,
Unable to refute
Their consuming hunger,
The undying fire
That burns and keeps on burning
In the prison called Desire!
Each night somewhere they gather,
The so-called unattached
And there rehearse in silence
The lies that they have hatched. “Come!” The serpent beckons,
“I swear to set you free
From that irksome shackle –
Responsibility!
Far from fear and burden,
Out on my astral plane,
Lost in the firmament,
Safe from the demon pain!”
At last a word is spoken,
A sacred, solemn word,
Distinct and oft repeated
But little more than heard
. . The one-piece split widely between her breasts and had many pink weaves straps holding them from revealing her breasts
Their eyes shall join those others
That stare out of the gloom;
The famished and the weary
That haunt each smoky room,
Longing for but a moment
To quell the raging fire
That burns the heart to ashes
In the furnace of desire!
Blackcock Vintage Rimming. Behold, all around you;
Eyes eloquent but mute,
Searching, staring, longing,
Unable to refute
Their consuming hunger,
The undying fire
That burns and keeps on burning
In the prison called Desire!
Each night somewhere they gather,
The so-called unattached
And there rehearse in silence
The lies that they have hatched. “Come!” The serpent beckons,
“I swear to set you free
From that irksome shackle –
Responsibility!
Far from fear and burden,
Out on my astral plane,
Lost in the firmament,
Safe from the demon pain!”
At last a word is spoken,
A sacred, solemn word,
Distinct and oft repeated
But little more than heard
. . The one-piece split widely between her breasts and had many pink weaves straps holding them from revealing her breasts
Mackenzie Davis Nude - Blade Runner 2049 (US 2017)