The Nephilim

Pain will only follow,
Divine blood weeps for her past decisions.
When you tell me what to swallow. 

She ventured towards the charming lad in the hollow.
Unable to foresee this fated collision,
Pain will only follow.

Claws reached at her. With genuine sorrow,
She ate every phrase, she chose indivision.
When you tell me what to swallow.

Squeezing her throat until she wallowed
he performed a serpentine spinal incision—
Pain will only follow.

She drank his juice like an obedient Apollo
Hidden in her glands, ideal love once envisioned.
When you tell me what to swallow.

Her stomach, an expanding marshmallow.
She coped by crying and laughing with derision:
Pain will only follow
When you tell me what to swallow.

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