She Brings Him to His Knees
Quietly subduing his fight
His halo shines for all the world to see,
Although he doesn’t feel he is worthy at all,
He grovels with the worst of the worst,
Fighting his inner demons, hoping they fall.
💕
He strolls the avenues of the decrepit,
Looking, learning, falling upon the miscreants,
Scooping every misdeed into his arsenal,
Hollowing out each of its recipients.
💕
The sun blossoms in his wake,
Filling his footsteps with beams of light,
Blazing forever within his past deeds,
Attaining his strength, highlighting his battles to fight.
💕
Warmth radiates from his skin,
Bronze hardness catches everyone’s gaze,
Rock hard muscles of pure delight,
Sets many a female’s juices ablaze.
💕
Sex on a stick, you can’t help but drool,
Imagining fingertips upon the rippling of skin,
Chiseled jaw clenched in ecstasy,
Causing his loss of control to quiver within.
💕
Seldom does he ever have a problem,
Glorifying the hint of a feminine scent,
Relishing in the torment of a touch,
Driving his passion into all present.
💕
Peace falls over his hard won features,
Dreams have finally come to fruition,
Arms soft but bold wrap him in silence,
The perfection of his dreams ambition.
💕
Some day he’ll stand and continue the fight,
Tomorrow, as today is built for love and desire,
Spontaneity the call of the wild,
As the blood runs through his veins on fire.
💕
Light kisses are welcomed down his spine,
Tingling with pleasure upon his nerves,
Drifting in harmony to the one who pleasures,
A break in time, as she tempts and preserves.
💕
Rock solid torments turn to mush,
Softening under her administration,
The softening of his heart as she pulls him close,
She resolves the rest of his frustration.
💕
She wields a strength like no other,
With her softness and loving attitude,
Bringing the warrior to his knees,
Banishing his fight as she quietly subdued.
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If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.
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Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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More stories from Colleen Millsteed and writers in Poets and other communities.
Two Wrinkles In Time
It is pointless to run, my darling, because sixty seconds ago, I will kill you. My blade will have sliced reality open right in front of you. It will have first pierced it as it would a bed sheet left hanging to dry, flapping in the wind on a Sunday afternoon. But the metal will have drawn a line in the air that the ghostly tear will have followed. Then I, La Dyablès, machete firmly in hand, will have emerged from what your mind, at the time, could only interpret as the other side of here—whatever that means to you. I know. I have seen that look on the faces of countless unlucky… clients. You will not have been the first nor the last to try and reneg on a riches for soul contract only to present this visage to me when I come to collect.
By Lily Séjor5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
A lovely rendering of the power of love and desire. Even Samson was brought to heel by the power of lust when he fell for Delilah. This is a beautiful poem Colleen.
Ah, to have someone so longing & willing to subdue the fight within us. So why does it seem they're always looking at someone else?
This surprised me! I mean I didn't expect that's how she would bring him to his knees. I love the way this went my friend!