Fear the Clergyman’s daughter

The bells of her tongues arrives,
Her beautiful slender skin destroys the eye,
Seemingly written everywhere,
Never touch, never touch,
Less you remain a bloody sinner.

Her father's name she polishes,
She prefers it to your throat,
Be weary,
Your bald might be the next propitiatory sacrifice,
As she moans with her heavy milkless breast,
With a smile in her heart,
Too bad for the son
He just couldn't get his eyes,
Go into Ghenna.

Last night, she was given a ring,
A seal to end it all,
But she needed the Clergyman's yes or no,
He oils the ring she wears,
And oils the home in your absence,
Fellow your bald joins the crew at the altar stand.

Don't touch his daughter is a warning to all.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem