WolfLarsen
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More from the monologue BLOOD & SEMEN
By Wolf Larsen
I kiss you a roar, I wrap you up in the kisses of all the men in the world breathing and chasing all over your body, you and I will make love on top of the dead corpses of the audience, the corpses will all sing us a sweet machete opera as they feel our bodies happily making sunlight on top of them, and as the world feels the happiness of my spermatozoa in your pussy the sun will shine a big electric peace over the earth
I will conquer the world and give it to you, every morning we will bath naked in human blood, we will use the skulls of our enemies as our toilet bowls and we will never use the same toilet bowl twice
You will be the princess of the human race and I will be the Poet-emperor of the world, I will castrate every man that comes within a 100 feet of you and I will use his castrated penis as a pen until the next castrated penis is handed to me on a silver platter. And the men will smile knowing I am using his castrated penis to write poetry
I will let you sit on the faces of the castrated men so that they may feel the wetness of your beautiful poetry melting all over their faces, all the men of the earth will love you, your naked body will delight on the sides of buildings everywhere, pornographic movies of our endless lovemaking will be broadcast across all the television channels 24 hours a day
Our child shall be worshipped as the second coming of christ – the child of the Poet – the One and only true god. And you shall be the princess of the human race, the mother of the son of god. For dinner, we shall eat the tongues of anyone who speaks otherwise
I shall be the father of the earth’s children. All men will send me their wives with all the happiness that this great privilege bears. You will sit on their faces as the Penis of the god-Poet gives them the ecstasy of immaculate conception. When their wives return home the husbands may taste all the creative literature secreting inside their wives’ pussies.
The word god slowly dies and is replaced with the greatest word that has ever been spoken: Poet.
Copyright 2006 by Wolf Larsen
By Wolf Larsen
I kiss you a roar, I wrap you up in the kisses of all the men in the world breathing and chasing all over your body, you and I will make love on top of the dead corpses of the audience, the corpses will all sing us a sweet machete opera as they feel our bodies happily making sunlight on top of them, and as the world feels the happiness of my spermatozoa in your pussy the sun will shine a big electric peace over the earth
I will conquer the world and give it to you, every morning we will bath naked in human blood, we will use the skulls of our enemies as our toilet bowls and we will never use the same toilet bowl twice
You will be the princess of the human race and I will be the Poet-emperor of the world, I will castrate every man that comes within a 100 feet of you and I will use his castrated penis as a pen until the next castrated penis is handed to me on a silver platter. And the men will smile knowing I am using his castrated penis to write poetry
I will let you sit on the faces of the castrated men so that they may feel the wetness of your beautiful poetry melting all over their faces, all the men of the earth will love you, your naked body will delight on the sides of buildings everywhere, pornographic movies of our endless lovemaking will be broadcast across all the television channels 24 hours a day
Our child shall be worshipped as the second coming of christ – the child of the Poet – the One and only true god. And you shall be the princess of the human race, the mother of the son of god. For dinner, we shall eat the tongues of anyone who speaks otherwise
I shall be the father of the earth’s children. All men will send me their wives with all the happiness that this great privilege bears. You will sit on their faces as the Penis of the god-Poet gives them the ecstasy of immaculate conception. When their wives return home the husbands may taste all the creative literature secreting inside their wives’ pussies.
The word god slowly dies and is replaced with the greatest word that has ever been spoken: Poet.
Copyright 2006 by Wolf Larsen