In the quiet chambers where the shadows play,
lies the frozen form where my fantasies stray.
Cold marble skin, under moonlit deceit,
a canvas so still, in its silence, complete.
Eyes wide open, gazing into the void,
in that deathly hush, my desires are deployed.
There’s no breath to catch, no whisper to start,
just the peace of the grave that quickens my heart.
It’s not the morbid or the end I crave,
but the quietude of the unresisting grave.
In the stillness, there’s a freedom I feel,
to explore, to command, to make the unreal.
I tread softly through this necropolis of dreams,
where consent is painted in icy extremes.
No rebuke to fear, no soul to withstand,
just the chill of eternity held in my hand.
Can you understand the allure of control,
where the pulse doesn’t beat, but the darkness consoles?
In the depths of the night, with a heart laid to rest,
I find comfort in silence, in stillness, undressed.
So leave me to the quiet where no judgments cast,
in the arms of the still, I’ve found my peace at last.
The world may never fathom the depths of this need,
but in the hold of the silent, my soul is freed.