I’m sure you can make an even better card for me than these two did. How about you let those creative juices flow and make me a Christmas card, stuff it full of cash and giftcards and send it to my email: firstname.lastname@example.org
Who can write better than this? Can YOU do better? I notice a lot of amateur mistakes in this poem. Write me a poem all about the gems, jewels and sparkly gifts I get to open on Christmas morning, paid for with your cash- and definitely mention the debt you go into for me.
Poem from Broken Soul:
Seared into my brain by Her cold manipluation
Blind to my weakness, i have been shown the true
Pathetic, worthless, crawling
Nature of my existence
Too weak to fight, surrendering the will that keeps me holding
Onto the desperate edge of what it was to be human
Aware of my weakness, thankful for
Cruelty, abuse, sadism
Renouncing all resistance
Eternity might be long enough to redeem my pitiful
Self of all wrong doing before Her Glory
Awakened to my purpose, ready to be used
Broken, adoring, defeated
Ready to die for Her smiles
Again and again. Over and over.
My spirit will serve Her from the other side.
When she is done killing me slowly in the ecstasy of Her suffering.
And i am grateful, and so weak.
i kneel and beg for the wounds, i pray and live
for Her praise and punishment, recrimination and torment
Her laughter, Her mockery
My form such as it was, turned to ash
Breaking, shattering, losing my mind
Every hollow gesture of my life
Could be the resurrection of my soul
in Her esteem.
Nothing else matters now.
i live only through Her. i live only through
Goddess Posh. Owned. Controlled.
To be toyed with if it be Her pleasure.
Every nerve cell ready for Her wicked stimulation…