My pregnancy went right for the first few weeks,
But then my son began to move about
Like an acrobat on stilts
Who isn’t the slightest bit sure-footed

My son grew bigger and bigger,
Although I barely nourished him,
And when he finished his dance
(Or rather, his somersault),
It burst out through my navel
And fell onto my bed with a plop;
I had given birth to a pink, slimy egg,
That I called, after much thought,
A baby

The thing was still warm from my womb;
The egg’s soft shell felt like velvet in my hands,
And I stroked it gently as if it were a living creature
That would soon hatch into a new life form

(My thoughts turned back to the moment
When a sperm came near to breaking through my egg
And made that strange movement
Which was the prelude to a unique creation,
One that was doomed from start to finish
By some cosmic accident or mistake,
And now the whole process appeared
Less mysterious than cruel)

At last the miracle occurred: the egg split open
And out came out crawling this beautiful baby boy:
A tangled mass of tentacles, beaks and teeth,
And a single eye, which rolled around madly

My son didn’t look at all like me,
And he also could speak telepathically
(I can only make out words
In between bouts of nausea and fainting spells)

“Mommy, can you hear what I’m saying?”
“Of course”
“Can you understand what I say?”
“Why not? You’re my son”
“You mean that you can see my thoughts
Floating there above my head?”
“Yes”
“What are they thinking now?”
“That you’ve just been born,
And that I should be proud of you”

My poor son couldn’t stand up properly
Without falling over,
So every time he moved his mass,
He got himself in trouble

Between wrinkles, his body hid tiny mouths,
Which contained fangs like those of sharks;
At night he would scream with pain,
And in the morning he’d cry out again

Instead of suckling on my tits,
This son of mine latched on to my skin
With half a dozen of his tentacles,
And sucked through my pores
Until the red stuff trickled out
From where I was bleeding inside

His little eye stared at me blankly
As if it were made of glass
While he sucked away at my flesh;
Afterwards, when he got tired,
He let go and fell down on the floor
In front of the mirror where I gazed at myself

After having been fed upon by him,
My breasts bled so much
That I couldn’t staunch the wounds,
Which itched and hurt terribly

My eyes looked dead;
I dreamed about black birds flying overhead,
I dreamt of the moon
As I was carried along under water

Sometimes my son was silent,
At other times he babbled unintelligibly;
All that was obvious to my eyes
Were the bubbles of blood around his beaks,
And the blood that ran down onto his belly
To mix with the yellow-green fluid
Of the pus that filled him up;
Also, slime covered him like an orange scarf

One evening as I lay asleep,
My son came down from his perch high above
And took a bite out of my breasts;
The bitten flesh turned black and fell away,
But he ate these bits of meat and sucked
On the wounds left behind

When dawn broke next day,
Both of my breasts were gone;
They probably flew far away
Into some other nest

When my son grew hungrier, he ate me
Until he sucked the marrow from my bones;
My blood is now all used up,
The tissues of my limbs are rotting away inside,
The nerves have died,
My bones are hollow,
My skull contains only air;
I am now just another victim
Of motherly devotion

I can never get rid of my spawn,
Not if I try forever;
After him, I don’t want any more children,
Nor any more slimy eggs

I will wait until I become old enough
For someone else to take care of me;
It will surely feel much better than tending
To this abominable son of mine,
Who has eaten everything there was to eat
Of what once belonged to me

‘I Gave Birth to This Thing’ by Jon Ureña

Bogdana, duchess of the dark motherland,
The forgotten kingdoms of Cosmographica,
Lady and mistress, sovereign of the night,
Queen of the darkest castle, the greatest conqueress,
Rules her subjects through terror and sex

Her castle stands high above all others,
And its towers are made from gold
Few dare rebel against her anymore;
They know she destroys everyone who disobeys

The castle was built three hundred years ago
During Alcindor’s rule as king,
But the man left this country after the war,
And never returned there

Bogdana is his descendant still,
Who rules through the terror and pleasure of sex,
That she uses to maintain the loyalty
Of her vassals, soldiers and slaves

Now Bogdana reigns in this castle, in Alcindor’s place,
And she does not treat her subjects well;
Instead, they serve only to be used by the duchess
Whenever she feels hungry

She’s got the perfect body and face for sex
Her breasts are huge, her hips wide, she’s tall
(About two heads taller than any man)
She’s a beauty who can please any gender

Bogdana was born a miracle from God;
She has two sets of genitals:
A sealed, shriveled vagina,
But the largest, veiniest cock

Beware the evil that hides beneath her skirt,
Those clothes may cover what you shouldn’t see
If anyone ever does gaze upon Bogdana’s cock,
Let alone touch it or look to long upon it,
They will become enslaved by her massive tool
The best way for men to serve her now
Is with their own tongues between her thighs

Her enormous phallus stretches out like a bow
To bend all men, and women as well;
She can break you with a look, but will not hesitate
To fuck a hole open for her own pleasure

Bogdana’s penis doesn’t just end at the pussy;
It ends at the anus too;
Sometimes it extends beyond those openings
And reaches her mouth

Every morning when Bogdana leaves her bedroom,
Us servants gather to see her magnificent bosom
Dressed in silky nightclothes,
Then the the duchess smiles at us
With an expression both terrifying and tender

We can’t contain ourselves, because we admire her
Breathtaking chest, which rises high and proud;
Each of her large mounds sits upon the summit
Of her glorious bosom in an hourglass shape
As her chest rises higher than our heads,
Sometimes we can’t see her face at all

The duchess’ upper half is adorned in pearls
And jewels and precious stones,
And the lower part, covered in smooth white flesh,
Leads to Bogdanas’s delicious ass,
Which she loves to squeeze with each step;
She squeezes so hard that she creates waves,
Which ripple along the floor below,
Causing water and mud everywhere

Bogdana is so powerful, beautiful and big
Nobody knows how to compete with that,
And certainly only the mad would want to;
It would be like trying to fight a hurricane

(As I was sitting to write these words,
The great lady walked into my quarters
And began to remove my clothes;
These days I give myself freely, eagerly,
Because I welcome the privilege of pleasing her,
The mistress who rules over me)

A man could never stand against her frame:
He’d lose in the first minute,
And he’d have to give up and submit
Then, Bogdana would make him pay

The duchess wants subjects who are obedient,
Who sit in a corner like the perfect doll,
Or bow before her to lick her shoes clean
(Or maybe suck out a load of spunk)

Bogdana loves to hear others begging her,
To feel their obedience and helplessness
As they kneel before her,
Bowing and prostrating themselves
Even when their words and actions contradict
What they think of themselves
It fills the duchess with such lusty ecstasy
Oh God… She’s already dripping with precum!

I was a simple peasant in a neighboring country,
But the plundering men of Cosmographia came my way
My farmhouse was destroyed, my older brother killed,
And I was brought over to the duchy as a slave to sell

I was a young maiden back then, shapely and unspoiled,
An innocent village girl who just started having periods
I met Bogdana right off, at my very first inspection;
She sent me straight to her bed instead of her dungeons

I spent days bound by chains in her bedroom
My body ached, with bruises forming everywhere,
Because Bogdana kept beating the shit out of me
(My wrists hurt for months, and my ankles swelled so bad
That I had to hobble and hop all around)

I was a mere child and I had done nothing wrong
Bogdana said that this wasn’t enough torture
“Your only choice left is obedience! Do whatever I ask!”
I didn’t want to suffer anymore,
So I surrendered to do as she demanded,
Which was to serve her monstrous cock
In exchange for some food every now and then

I could see myself reflected in Bogdana’s glistening prick:
I always look tiny compared to the duchess,
With my little breasts, tight little tummy, slender waist,
And my pitiful female sheath, which goes into my body

(The duchess licks at her own chocolate milk
While stretching open the towel in front to reveal
The double organ woman: it’s a mirrored cunt
As it hooks on to its own angry bacon neck
God damn Bogdana! What is that thing?!

I feel the cockhead, then I can barely accommodate
A single millimeter when Bogdana pushes herself in
I fall unconscious for a while and come awake in a dream
Of being penetrated with the duchess’ enormous prick

Bogdana keeps forcing herself inside, deeper,
And my poor, aching hole can hardly handle it all
This goes on forever in this weird erotic loop
While my mind is filled with the immense sensations
And pleasures of being fucked so big
It feels like a man should, but also not like a man

Even these days, as a veteran servant of our lady,
When the pain becomes unbearable,
I sob, cry out loud, which worries Bogdana,
But she gives my throat something extra;
The duchess loves the taste of her former slave girl
So much, in fact, that whenever I get fucked
She will gift me her saliva like it’s candy;
I swallow her gifts, and she does the exact same
To keep feeding me that special flavor;
I’ll be honest, this makes my life worth living)

While she wiped her cock, Bogdana told the guards,
“Give this filthy creature a clean cloth,”
So the senior servant ran out to do so;
I thanked the lady after wiping me thoroughly,
Then she offered me a cup filled with tea

The weary senior servant took me aside
To explain what my life had been reduced to:
“You’re going to work for Bogdana in the palace
And help with the farm chores and the cleaning
We are to service her, serve and please
Her every waking need as long as we are alive”

I bowed my head, ashamed at how pathetic I looked
My tears made the senior servant sigh
“You’ll soon get used to this life; Besides,
If you try to run away, she’ll catch you in a day
You’re never free from Bogdana’s clutches
She’s got eyes in all the corners of the realm
She sees everything, and she hears too if she wants

Bogdana can read your mind,
So whatever you’ve been hiding from her,
Don’t bother lying: she’ll know soon anyway
You better tell the whole story immediately,
To get through your punishment soon”

I dreaded the next time I would face the duchess,
And heard her words echoing in my mind,
“Get down on your knees, peasant slut”
And so I, so far removed from my old life,
Would bow in worship to Bogdana’s monster cock
“Fuck yourself onto me!” she commanded
I always obeyed like a mindless puppet,
Till I felt a warm, wet spot forming under me,
A feeling so wonderful and pleasant I couldn’t bear it
“Come for me now, slave!” ordered Bogdana
(Those same nights, I yearned to be taken again)

Whenever I faced Bogdana, my hands were sweaty,
My heart was pounding and racing,
The air around me shimmered with anxiety and fear
As Bogdana’s cock continued relentlessly beating
The shit out of the rest of my mind

If I said anything back to the duchess,
She beat me unconscious with her giant dick,
But if I obeyed her completely and did everything right,
She rewarded me with sexual pleasures beyond belief

Oh no, the duchess was smiling at me,
And her huge dick was swinging around again;
If her skirt was hiked up to reveal her massive erection,
It didn’t matter that now the lady was polite and nice
Thankfully I learned to carry around a jar full of lube
That I saved for those rainy days

My body trembled when she forced herself on me
My breasts ached for release
From being squeezed tightly by her huge nipples
My pussy clenched around her gigantic shaft,
Begging to feel more of it buried deep inside me
Then the duchess laughed at how weak I was,
How much pleasure I got from being dominated like that,
For wanting to serve her in every possible way

The worst thing was being forced to beg;
You must know how good that can feel,
It felt fantastic when my begging brought a smile
To the face of someone as powerful and cruel as her

(These days she doesn’t order me to beg,
I love to do it over and over myself)

Once she forced me to ride a horse
Bareback without reins for hours;
When I returned to the castle, covered in sweat,
Bogdana tied me naked to a tree, spread-eagled,
And fucked me until I came three times

The duchess orders us servants to bring out the wine,
The food (including her favorites, pork loin and sausages)
Then her most devoted attendants bring her gifts:
Jewelry, dresses made for a princess, shoes

Bogdana adores giving presents to her people,
Because the gifts remind her that they adore her
She doesn’t care about politics and wars:
What the duchess truly desires is sex
All of Bogdana’s desires, both mundane and erotic,
Can be summed up as: more sex, please

(Bogdana likes her drink with just enough booze;
When it’s just alcohol, it doesn’t taste good
The liquor must flow freely, and yet be diluted
So she can sip her favorite libation
Without getting completely wasted

She likes drinking alone, all by herself,
In secret and hidden from anyone else;
She thinks it’s best to drink her whiskey in peace
With a book on her knee)

No amount of money can buy your freedom;
Bogdana has absolute authority here,
And the price for her vassals to stay in power
Is unquestioning devotion

The duchess gave orders for all the servants,
The wretches who worked hard for months or years
Just getting enough food to live;
Bogdana told us not to eat at her palace,
But rather live off what’s outside in the woods

The duchess intended to torture us all in the forest
To get us addicted to pain;
This way, we would always crave punishment,
So we could only survive if we received the treatment,
Which was more doses of her dick
The end goal was total submission, total obedience

I hated her then, even as my body burned with arousal,
But the hatred and the lust were one in the same;
I had come to see the great duchess in a different light:
Her abuse of her subjects wasn’t just about pleasure,
But something more important, a kind of twisted justice

I had already learned that I loved the pain,
Loved the fact that my mistress used
And punished me so thoroughly;
It made me so horny every night
That I couldn’t wait to get back to Bogdana
To have my pussy stuffed with cock again

She made us servants worship her feet
And suck on her toes like dogs,
And when Bogdana wanted sex, she just grabbed
Someone attractive by their hair,
Even lords and ladies,
And threw them onto her bed

For men all over the realm, I give some advice:
Bend over slowly with your back facing the duchess,
Put your hand onto your cheek (this is important),
Spread your legs a bit farther apart,
Then say these words, “Your wish is my command”
She will be on top, you are expected to lie there,
Accepting her cock without resisting

Bend down, kiss and worship its massive head,
Serve the great duchess’ every whim;
Then when she says you’ve been obedient enough,
You can sit up straight again

Bogdana isn’t afraid of anybody:
Nobody can stand up to her,
Nobody can stop her;
Everyone knows that her cock is undefeatable

It’s true, nobody can beat her,
Not even the king himself;
He can try his best, but he’ll fail;
He won’t be able to match her strength

She owns all the lands around
And keeps the peasants in her debt, as she does us,
Through her own wicked sexual pleasures;
She’s powerful enough that she never gets sick,
Even after eating the most horrible foods,
Or drinking the most awful liquids
The great duchess always remains healthy,
Because her cock gives her energy

(Bogdana has taken the habit
Of coming to my bedroom at night,
To force her monster onto my pussy lips;
She even called me her favorite

Her past beatings ceased to hurt,
And her attention makes me so warm;
I admit to myself that I love my duchess,
Especially when she pumps me full of cum)

The duchess’ cock never gets tired,
Even after fucking all day long;
Although we keep hearing cries
Of shame and humiliation,
The duchess only cares about having fun

The noblemen bow before her,
All the poor peasants are afraid of her
Her power comes from her obscenely tall frame,
But mainly from her monstrous cock,
Which is even bigger than it befits a giantess

It must be wonderful to have a dick like that,
To get to feel its weight and size every day,
To feel so much power in each stroke,
To have the ability to make a man or woman
Lose consciousness with just one thrust

One thing Bogdana has added lately
Is a cockstander’s stance
That seems like it fits in quite well
She loves her cock-enhanced look;
Her huge cockette always juts out of her panties,
Except now it sticks out a few extra centimeters

(Cockstanding is an ancient tradition;
It began with the Egyptians and is still performed today,
Albeit to a much smaller degree
There is more going on than simply “cock-and-cocking”;
There’s lots and lots of sex, that involves sucking dicks,
Fucking holes, swallowing cumshots, getting facefucked,
And the act of being shoved full of cum
The list of possible acts is almost endless

I think it would take a very long time to write
An essay that could describe in detail all the possibilities,
However I can offer some ideas;
Here’s a short sample of what I imagine:
The duchess puts a finger into your asshole)

Bogdana is uncharacteristically respectful
To a famous writer in her court;
These days she often carries around
That man’s latest book, an ode to his duchess

(I admit I have felt jealousy at times,
And wondered whether she had fucked him)

The book contains descriptions of her adventures
Plenty of pages are devoted to her enormous cock,
Although a section is dedicated to Bogdana’s bosom,
Her nipples, and how to tit-fuck her slave-girls;
There are dozens of drawings,
Including one which is rather close-up

In fact, this book is actually a manual
On the art of cocksmanship,
That explains how Bogdana will dominate
The forgotten kingdoms of Cosmographica
And make her subjects love her even more;
Many pictures show throughout the book
How her subjects will eventually come crawling
For the chance to get even more humiliated,
Just so they can be used by her big prick
She is not only the mistress, but also the teacher;
I suspect that someday there will be
A few books written about me

(I myself was fortunate enough in my younger years
To have been blessed by a mother
That had experienced several orgasms herself;
This taught me to understand how to perform
A number of techniques on another human’s anatomy;
At night, she let me have sex with her
Using all the different techniques she knew

My mother went on to pass her own experience along
To both of her young offspring;
The eldest, my deceased brother, having an active interest,
Although I was somewhat more laid back and indifferent

While my dear mother didn’t possess the authority
And credentials found on the bookshelves
Of some of Cosmographica’s finest institutions,
She was a member of the Cockstuddling School of Love,
Which maintains the right balance of professionalism
Coupled with a level of comfort for its members

I never thought that my master would allow me
The privilege of taking our great duchess to heaven,
Where we spend our lives together)

The duchess’ cum tastes absolutely fantastic,
And is especially useful as medicine
I once heard that a single dose of her semen cures cancer;
This is obviously fake, but there’s a small truth in it,
Since semen is a natural disinfectant and purifies wounds;
I know a lot of people in Bogdana’s realm have it on tap,
So they can drink their recommended dose daily

The duchess orders me into the bath with her
Every single morning, for a few years now,
Because she likes having a cockbath before breakfast
(Sometimes this happens in the middle of the night:
She climbs into the water, nude of course,
And waits until her massive cock begins swelling
Before diving underneath)

As our duchess and I sit in a tub full with warm water,
It takes me an hour and twenty minutes
To wash off most of Bogdana’s cock,
Without having time to start cleaning the rest of her body
Then I must towel-dry the duchess carefully,
Because her phallus sticks straight out like a pole

(Some mornings she lets me wash her with my mouth;
Mainly her breasts and her armpits,
But her large balls can be cleaned efficiently by licking)

Bogdana’s enemies are totally ignorant
About the duchess real, vast wealth and fortune,
Which as she readily explains, comes mostly
From her immense collection of books,
Some of them dating far back in history

For example the ‘Necronomics’, written in ancient Erokine;
‘The Compendium of Sigmoidal Paedology’,
Authored sometime between 982 CE to 1004 CE;
‘The Anonymous Dictionary on How to Use the Penis
Like an Instrument of Human Pleasure’,
Composed during the Renaissance Era;
And my favorite, ‘The Manual On How to Get a Real Job’,
By an author known only by his first name: Lamplight

Many of the books have been passed down
Through the duchess’ line and the Cockstroking School;
Bogdana also owns the ‘Degenerate Art of the Vagina’,
By the famous artist of the same name,
Who’s probably the greatest genius who ever existed,
Even though he lived more than six thousand years ago

One of Bogdana’s favorite books is one titled
‘Cockolded Women and Cuckolds’ (by an unknown male,
Which the duchess keeps chained up in her dungeon)
He suggests many ingenious techniques
That women should use to keep a cuckold husband in place
While also pleasing her lovers

Most people think that her collection
Is just another impressive treasure trove of knowledge,
But after a thorough inspection of one particular book,
Called the ‘Great Encyclopedic Compendium
On Human Sexual Anatomy’,
Her opponents will suddenly change their tune
“Wow! I can’t believe Bogdana is such a scholar
What incredible knowledge of medicine and sex!
That must explain her incredible powers
As a sexual dominatrix,
And the fact that her huge cock
Always stays erect and full”

This is a classic misunderstanding
Which reveals a deep ignorance of biology
(And is a prime indicator
That her detractors aren’t very bright)
It is well-known in the scholarly community,
Especially among scientists of all ages,
That the size of a woman’s cock is irrelevant
To whether she is skilled or not in lovemaking

Bogdana once received the visit
Of the three princesses of Cuntistan;
The duchess impregnated them in the same night,
So one day they’ll give birth to future bastard claimants
(Which makes this book particularly relevant:
‘How the Cuntistanians Will Endure This Painfully,
And Then Learn Their Lesson,
In Order To Stop Trying to Overthrown Our Power’,
by King Bilefunk the Fifth, from 898 CE onwards;
An account of a coup attempt by his eldest son)

Bogdana became intrigued by the huge sword
Of one of her most trusted bodyguards
He agreed to compare the size of their swords,
Then said he couldn’t conceive the size of her weapon,
The broadsword that Bogdana came armed with;
Still, the bodyguard deeply admired its beauty,
His own weapon being smaller and shorter, too,
So he jokingly offered the duchess the option of trade

Bogdana asked him, “Do you like this gift from God?”
“Oh yes, my duchess. It’s a thing of immense power”
Bogdana smiled and moved her broadsword
Slowly and heavily towards the man’s buttocks,
And shortly after, the hilt rested between his cheeks

The broadsword stayed like that long enough
To make one wonder, “Is he okay? Is he going to die?”
But he screamed, “Oh my god! That feels so great!
Please keep doing that, duchess; don’t stop now!”

The man panted as the orgasm rushed through his veins,
And the blood poured into his balls from deep within;
Once Bogdana was satisfied and pulled out,
The bodyguard collapsed face down
In a pool of his own gooey cum

An ancient temple had collapsed in town,
Killing a dozen subjects, adults and children
Bogdana summoned the grieving families
To the throne room of her majestic palace
The duchess then gave them a short speech:
“Dear subjects, my heart aches for your misfortune,
And it brings tears of sorrow to my eyes”
Then Bogdana started to pump her big fat cock
Slow and steady, with both of her strong hands

The gathered subjects became quiet,
Everyone stared intently;
All the attention was on the duchess’ phallus,
Which was slickened with copious amounts of precum

Bogdana’s cock twitched and throbbed,
Then bolts and gouts of sperm shot up from its massive tip,
Each squirt causing droplets to cascade onto her thighs,
And splattering over her subjects like warm rain

Some cried tears while some just moaned with pleasure,
Some kissed their children, some embraced each other,
But most kneeled until they slowly got up off the floor,
Stood on wobbly legs and thanked Bogdana
For healing their sadness

(Every time I see our duchess, she has a larger dick,
Longer and thicker, with even bigger veins
It seems like it could easily spear people when erect
The monster is so huge that a shot of its spunk
Could pierce through someone’s head, splitting the skull)

Bogdana needed a bit of relaxation,
So when the time seemed appropriate,
Bogdana took her pleasure
From a few of the female slaves
Who were captured during a recent rebellion;
Bogdana did what any good duchess might
When it suits her fancy: she fucked their faces
Using the royal castle dungeons
As her personal playground

The duchess blasted streams and rivers
Of her thick sperm over her victims,
Over her own tits and belly, and over everything;
Eventually her victims’ entire bodies
Ended up covered in cum, like a painting

Bogdana had been practicing for a while
By taking turns on all the male prisoners,
Without causing much bloodshed or injuries;
The only problem was finding some fresh new victims

Bogdana enjoyed being in control,
But when her desires started becoming obsessive,
She decided to fuck a different man each time,
Making sure that she ended up satisfied

Those who have challenged the duchess’ power,
Or those who failed her or betrayed her,
She has tortured, chained and beaten in her dungeons,
Then fucked them over and over again,
Until they could no longer think
Or remember their names

It’s amazing how fast her victim’s brain was spinning,
Especially once she hit them over and over again
She also told them to smile, and smile some more
And laugh with joy as she ripped open their asses;
If their bowels were too small to accommodate her,
Then they would simply burst from the pressure

They screamed out loud about how much they loved
Being fucked by her monster cock;
Once their bodies and spirits had been broken,
They submitted without resistance,
For if anyone resisted,
She just forced them to take more
Of her massive dick

When she pulled her cock out from the hole
Belonging to the prey whose mind she broke,
Their insides were bloated with fresh cum;
She let the guy lie on the ground for a moment,
Then the duchess sent her servants out
To wheel in a large metal cage
That’d hold the person inside it

They walked the poor soul slowly through town
Past hundreds of people who were used to this;
Then they dragged the person inside a prison cell,
Closed the gate, turned a wheel, locking him away

Once every one of those men’s defences were broken,
Bogdana put them all to work for her
In the name of love, in the name of friendship,
For the sake of the kingdom, for the glory of God

When she truly came to hate some poor bastard,
Bogdana threw them into the dungeon
She used her massive cock in that prisoner every day;
Although they kept begging, Bogdana didn’t stop,
She just kept fucking them harder and faster
Until they could no longer can stand up, nor breathe

She enjoyed the idea that someone would die screaming,
Knowing she killed them in such a horrible fashion,
By using that gigantic cock to break them in agony,
Making sure they wouldn’t ever escape again
This way Bogdana could always keep herself satisfied
While still punishing the weak and evil

Some of her subjects have been caught suggesting
That our lady isn’t really human,
That her mother gave birth to Bogdana
After having been raped by three demons,
A process that took three days of continual fucking
Those vile gossipers said that Bogdana was born deformed,
So much that nobody knew whether she was alive or dead

Our lady punishes those spreading such a rumor,
Which is nevertheless completely false:
One look at our duchess’ elegant visage
Is proof enough that Bogdana is most divine
(And the goddess of our lands and our hearts, our queen)

There was this cocky courtier
That had the gall to disagree with the duchess;
She broke his spine in half with her own hands
Just to see what he was made of

One of Bogdana’s messengers approached the king
To present a beautiful gift from the duchess:
A golden bowl full of the queen’s piss
Mixed with loads of Bogdana’s own semen
(The king had tried many times to fuck his wife in vain)
An added letter from Bogdana proudly stated
How she loved to caress the queen’s piss-stained crotch

The punishment for breaking serious laws and orders
That Bogdana is too busy to dole out with her dick
Is to be buried alive in a hole filled with shit,
Which makes for some rather interesting stories
To tell the grandchildren on a future holiday

One of her guards was an elderly guy,
A veteran who had survived the duchess’ moods,
But out of nowhere Bogdana ordered the man
To wrap her cock around his neck;
Although the man protested, he quickly obeyed,
And the duchess’ cock strangled him like a boa,
Chocking his windpipe, making him gasp for air;
This aroused Bogdana, so her dick got hard,
Instantly crushing the guard’s neck,
And sending him flying into the air as he died
While the cock splattered cum everywhere

I witnessed Bogdana killing a maid:
She cut off the girl’s fingers,
Shoved a knife deep inside her throat,
Then buried her in some patch of dirt

She once forced some servants into the kitchen
And made them cook dinner
While Bogdana watched from a distance;
Then she took her favorite dishes
And ordered the cooks to add in more spices
Bogdana ordered the cooks again,
Telling them to change her dishes,
But this time, there would be meat
Then Bogdana sent her soldiers in
To kill all the cooks,
Along with everyone in the kitchen
Nothing remained except scraps and bones,
And the soldiers also burned the place down

Few boys ever returned home
After working in her fields,
And some wives and husbands never saw
Their loved ones alive ever again

Sometimes, after she finished screwing some captives,
Bogdana just cut off their heads with a knife
Once Bogdana confirmed that the captive was dead,
She dug a grave nearby for their corpse, covered it up,
Placed flowers upon the grave site,
Sprinkled it with perfume to honor their memory
(She likes perfume which reminds her of sex),
And placed candles and torches around the tombstone;
When finished, she planted rosebushes around that grave
To mark a past lover’s tomb; they remain as a signpost
Of the lives lost at the hand of Bogdana-cosmophilic desire

Bogdana told everyone to watch out:
Any children playing in the street
Shouldn’t play together;
If the children found one another,
It may have been a clue
That they planned to betray her,
So she had instructed the guards
To murder those plotting kids;
The duchess wanted no loose ends

Sometimes sex got too boring for Bogdana;
She threatened her guards to murder her,
Or else she’d tear them apart with her cock
The terrified guards pulled out their swords
And started slashing away at her,
But Bogdana’s will is incommensurable;
Although the guards stabbed her several times,
And she did scream and shout
(Because it felt so fucking amazing),
She ended up beating them all up;
She had a lot of anger towards anyone
Who dared hurt her precious body

Her massive penis pounded her guards relentlessly;
Their blood poured out and mixed with hers
When she came, she crushed the guards’ brains,
Which splashed on top of Bogdana’s breasts
She laughed insanely and continued moaning
Until she fell over in exhaustion,
Lying flat on the floor of the royal palace,
Surrounded by the corpses and splashes of gore

The king had enough of Bogdana’s tyranny
(Mainly that she kept pleasuring the queen),
So he ordered all his other dukes and counts
To march in order to eradicate her realm

Bogdana heard the rumours of war coming,
And immediately took measures
For the safety of herself, and her kingdom;
In the meantime, her men built up their army:
They trained every single soldier day in, day out,
So that when the war began and her men were attacked,
Bogdana could quickly crush any of the enemies
Before they could ever stand against the giant duchess’
(That she would later call the Mother Goddess) army

After weeks of their siege,
Bodies and heads were piled up around the palace,
Forming tall, grotesque and hideous walls
They were made mostly of the king’s men,
But also of plenty of Bogdana’s subjects,
To make the walls even taller

Bogdana fought naked (except for her boots),
Armed with her broadsword;
The enemies screamed and groaned as they died,
Then their corpses were thrown onto the growing piles,
Which started overflowing and spilling down

Bogdana’s huge cock continued spewing forth
Gallons and tons and thousands of gallons of semen,
Which was soaking through everyone’s clothes
(Including those in armor, who were soon drowned);
None were immune, and all had the pleasure
Of being impregnated and impregnated again

Bogdana laughed as she pumped the enemy full of cum,
Squirting her seed into the pit of their bowels
She loved filling their bodies with thick, creamy fluid,
Then looking down as her seed bubbled up from their holes

Afterwards Bogdana stood up, her body wet with cum,
And said, “Well, now I’m done with you guys;
This whole battle has just served to prove
I can easily beat up armies a million strong”

When only captives remained to deal with,
She ordered us, her guards and servants,
To escort the enemy into her majestic throne room;
The captives lined up, terrified and afraid

When Bogdana entered her palace,
Her huge body swayed
Making waves in the pool of fluids,
While her enormous cock swung wildly
Back and forth between her massive thighs

Bogdana sat comfortably in her throne,
But as usual it took some maneuvering
To accomodate the thickness of her cock,
Which she swung to hang over the armrest

She ordered all of her guards and servants
To walk up to a captive and execute him;
She made a festive ritual out of it too

Bogdana addressed me by name
As she told a guardsman to hand me a dagger,
Which I ended up shoving through a captive’s eye;
I felt the young man’s life fading away
As he trembled against the guards holding him,
Then he fell and sank in the pool of cum,
Where his blood flowed like water

Once every captive had been killed,
Bogdana ordered us to dismember them,
Then take their severed parts
And throw them out of the windows;

Bogdana laughed merrily
“Let’s celebrate our victory with a party!”
She told the guards to bring over her subjects,
Who came running to see her duchess,
Although many of them were old and decrepit

“Hello, hello, dear subjects of Bogdanos,”
The duchess said sweetly,
Her voice reverberating off the stone walls
“Please sit down and don’t mind the mess I made”

Some subjects gasped and screamed,
Because there were torsos lying around,
And they didn’t like standing in a pool of cum
Two morons even tried to escape,
But Bogdana’s cock blocked their attempts
(They were lucky they caught her in a good mood)

She asked her subjects if they were happy now,
And they all gave her a similar answer:
“Yes! Yes! Of course we are happy! We’re thrilled!
We love you, Mistress! Thank you for everything!”
And they’d do anything she asked of them,
Anything at all, even if it hurt

Bogdana announced her intention of having an orgy;
Her guards and us servants helped her with it
By picking out her favorites, the most handsome guys,
Then bringing them over to our duchess

Bogdana tore off their clothes,
Then made them kneel at her feet
And lick her boots clean
While her huge cock rubbed their faces;
Meanwhile, some of her favorite servant girls
(I was one of the lucky ones, thankfully)
Kissed her beautiful body, worshipping her
(I ended up swallowing a couple of liters of cum)

The king was left without an army, and terrified,
So he gave Bogdana a gift for her achievements:
He named a town, built in his domain, Bogdanatown,
And he declared Bogdana a princess of the kingdom

He ruled that her authority was binding and irrevocable
Over human affairs, which include slavery;
All of this would be recorded in holy writings,
And as violent and cruel as her name may be,
She would have total control over her subjects
She could use her dick whenever necessary
To enforce these holy orders

The only beings that remain to challenge her power
Are gods and goddesses and the Devil,
But Bogdana promises that in time, Satan will be hers:
He will become another chained member of her harem

The duchess’ army fights and conquers with such zeal
Because her huge monster cock fills them with zeal;
Even the bravest warrior must yield before our lady;
After she finally overwhelms the king’s retinue,
Beneath Bogdana, there serves the queen

Get down on your knees,
Or maybe just sit back in your chair;
Lift up those skirts of yours
And put your hands behind your head
That’s the way to really impress Bogdana:
She likes a subject who knows how to behave,
And she’ll love to watch you beg for mercy;
Begging is so hot, it makes her feel powerful
It turns her on even more than fucking them

The entire population of humans, and their slaves,
Will one day be under the rule of Bogdana’s cock
There will no longer be any need for kingship
All of humanity should live in fear
That their time will come

---

I conceived this epic poem as the dark counterpart to ‘Kanazawahr and the Thousand Immortals’.

The first time I saw her, a few days after she moved in,
My neighbor was standing on the landing late at night,
Frozen in the middle of opening her apartment door,
Staring up at the murky sky as if she wanted to scream.

For a few seconds I stood motionless
As the rain came down upon my head.
Then my neighbor lowered her gaze
At the stranger who gawked at her.

As I stared at her vacant, translucent eyes,
I imagined water running over ice floes.
Hers was a face painted on a doll
With nothing behind it except air.

Stunned, I bid her goodnight,
But she nodded in silence,
Let out an exhausted sigh,
Then walked into her apartment.

It started one day that we chatted
As we leaned on the railing of the landing
In front of the doors to our apartments,
While the wind chilled us with sudden gusts.
She wasn’t beautiful like the women on TV,
But she wasn’t at all like other girls.

She was my next door neighbor.
I would have been able to see into her room
If the wall between us were transparent.

My neighbor’s hair, like mine, was dark brown,
But her eyes were dry, hopeless,
As if she had been searching for a long time
Until she gave up.

I shared that I programmed websites,
But she asked me how I’d been feeling,
Alone in my tiny apartment
With only the TV and PC for company.

The loneliness I had bottled up inside myself,
Hidden deep within the folds of my mind,
Seemed suddenly exposed, raw,
And it burned through my skin.

“It is lonely, but I have my own life,”
I said hoarsely as I avoided her gaze.
I wasn’t happy, but the way I was living
Had been working out for me until then.

She waited until I dared to hold her gaze,
Then she offered a weary smile.
“Your bed must be hard and cold.
Do you also lie there and stare at the wall
As you wonder why you exist at all
In a world where everything turns to dust?”

As I returned home from the office,
The air smelled like autumn trees
And leaves yellowing under frosty skies.
Although the wind was blowing hard,
My neighbor looked down at me
From where she sat on the landing,
Her hands tucked into her armpits.
She seemed like a tiny, helpless thing
Trying desperately to conceal her pain.

On a different day, we sat side by side
On the grass of a nearby river embankment.
We watched the boats as they went by.
I could tell we were eager to open up,
But our lives were hard to explain
Even to ourselves.

I never managed to comprehend
That look she gave me from time to time.
I felt that her heart, like those eyes,
Had dried up and turned to stone.

“I’m just an ordinary, unimportant girl
Who is stuck with a dull, empty job.
I don’t think I’ve ever known what love means,
Or really cared about anybody else’s problems,
And we are enduring all of this
For no reason whatsoever.
What do we gain by tiring ourselves out
With so many silly endeavours?”

She could see through the lies and excuses
I told myself everyday to survive.
I tried convincing her she wasn’t alone anymore,
But her body stiffened, and her face went pallid.

“I miss many books on my shelf,
Which I haven’t read since elementary school.”
When, confused, I said I would buy them for her,
She let out a soft laugh that rang strangely loud,
Like the last gasp of some dying animal.
She turned and shuffled toward her home.
Cautiously, I followed her from far enough.

(My neighbor was right, of course.
Nothing in this life makes sense,
No one knows what tomorrow will bring,
Our happiness is short-lived, and so are we.)

After that time, we met almost every day.
We strolled slowly along or sat with a coffee,
And sometimes we watched online videos.
She became indispensable, and it scared me.

She showed me the old books on her shelf,
All worn and well used, stocked haphazardly,
Which she had read dozens of time over.
I borrowed some, and I soon found out
That someone had written them for us.

Many of the stories that my neighbor loved
Back when she was a carefree child growing up,
Those books she would have needed to share,
Most of them she lost along the way,
And many of their titles she forgot,
And a few of them won’t ever return in print,
But the memories remain fresh, bright, alive.

(Please, let these pages never be erased,
Let the memories saved here
Never disappear.)

We drank beer and talked until late at night.
She told me that she had tried everything
To feel better, but it hadn’t worked yet,
At least not very well.

She looked up at the night sky through the window
As she spoke at length about her loneliness,
How it waited under her skin
For any excuse to surface.

I liked protecting her feelings from the world,
So she wouldn’t feel ashamed nor isolated,
But I couldn’t erase that lonely look
Of someone drowning deep at sea.

We spent an afternoon in the park
Watching the autumn leaves fall
As the sky grew darker with clouds overhead.
My neighbor spoke about her mother,
Who left her by moving to a distant country,
After which her father was never the same again.

I witnessed her tears as they rolled down her cheeks.
Before she wiped them away, I reached out
And brushed them off with my fingertips.
The loneliness and desperation she contained
Were like a gas leak waiting for a match.

I hoped my touch might spark the explosion.
In her catharsis, something beautiful may happen,
Something new and real could come into being,
Just like the words that flowed from her lips,
Like the wind across ice floes on a frozen lake,
Leaving nothing in its wake.

My neighbor’s loneliness hurt more than mine did,
For it was hers that made her needlessly brave,
As if her life depended on facing her pain
And speaking honestly to me of it
Without caring what anyone thought of her.
We both agreed that we had nowhere else to turn,
And we embraced as the cold wind blew against us.

Instead of progressing in life, we were stuck
Pushing the walls of our small world together.
What awaited beyond was so big
That we lacked the strength to break out.

It felt more appropriate to reach
Through the gaps in the books we shared;
That emptiness inside both of us
Couldn’t be filled through our own words.

The walls of our cramped apartments were thin.
I listened to the sounds she made as she slept.
Even the slightest sigh, or breath she drew in,
They felt loud inside me as I lay awake in bed.

Her lips grew chapped, as did my fingers,
And we kept our hands warm inside our pockets.
Sometimes I found myself gazing at her mouth,
But I feared what would happen if we kissed.

We went out for karaoke and we sang softly.
We also ate sandwiches or sipped liquor.
The alcohol allowed us to laugh,
And also to grow much closer.

By now we often smiled in unison
As if our minds were connected by wires.
We could spend hours together
Without ever getting sick of each other.

The next day my neighbor woke up hungover,
And when she exited her apartment,
I was already sitting on the landing
Reading one of the books she had lent me.

I didn’t want to be hurt if I failed her now,
But I knew I couldn’t stand back anymore.
If my heart broke before hers did break,
Maybe it was best that way.

That night, we hid in my neighbor’s home.
Once she took off her faded shirt,
Her back looked almost translucent,
Naked and pale as the paper white sheets,
And I discovered the words written on her skin:
‘This is not a good story’.

(I dream of a woman whose tears are black
As ink spilled on snow white rice paper,
And who carries her burden of loss
Inside her all alone.)

I held her tight as we made love
While we listened to some old record.
Afterward we lay next to each other
And stared at the cracked ceiling.
Our breaths slowly grew shorter, quieter,
Then they seemed to stop entirely.

We remained perfectly still
And silent like stone.
We were floating there like ghosts
Caught somewhere outside of space and time.

She spoke of a black hole inside her heart,
Where everything she cared about had been sucked in,
Leaving only that void to consume her from within,
A hollow emptiness to which no one could give meaning.

I could tell she was crying,
So I hugged her tightly.
Her shoulders trembled
As her tears moistened my neck,
Shedding salty drops onto my collarbone,
Pouring her heart’s sorrow into me.

I held my neighbor’s slender body
Like I had wished to do for months.
I felt the soft, smooth warmth of every curve,
And how her breasts pressed against my chest.

Still, I barely heard her whisper,
“Our lives will end soon enough.
When it finally comes for me,
Please let my self continue
Through your hands and your thoughts.”

We awoke to an overcast, cold day
Like when my dad used to drive me to school.
It seemed so odd, lying beside this girl
While her face was turned towards mine
Instead of facing the wall or looking down
To be alone inside her secret world.

From then on, we slept together most nights,
Sometimes in our beds, and others on her couch.
We spent weekends watching television shows,
Listening to music we didn’t care for very much.
There were times when we had nothing to say
Except for anything related to the past, or work.

(Some days she lacked the strength to get up.
She would lie in bed from morning to night,
And whispered words over and over to no one
Or wept silently until she fell asleep.
Each time the waves of grief swept over her,
I wondered if the tide would take her away.)

We decided to move to a small apartment
With a home office for my job,
And empty space for her father’s stuff.
We found a cheap place in a town close by.
The landlord liked our faces,
So we didn’t have to offer references.

On a Sunday evening, after we exited a movie theater,
My neighbor talked about getting married some day.

(The black hole in her chest
Had continued growing stronger,
And she admitted that she feared
That one day it would swallow her up.)

Her dark hair fluttered lightly behind us
While the rising sunlight reflected off the puddles.
I held on to her hand tightly and I stared up ahead
As the light of a new day spread its glow across us.

All the desires I harbored became so clear
That they overwhelmed me with their beauty,
Transforming this world into an endless mirage
Within which we floated between joy and sadness.

(I wish I could find my old books again,
To take them with me everywhere I go.
Every time I close my eyes at night,
All I can see is her back as she turns away.)

We could spend a whole day
Holding each other like two children might.
I had never felt at home with anyone before,
And I feared that it would collapse if I let go.

I think my neighbor and I became happier
After we got engaged.
We got married in the city hall
In front of ghost guests,
A large crowd.

(Every single morning, when I wake up,
My heart is heavy, my mind foggy with despair,
And I grow even colder whenever I believe
That I can hear her footsteps approaching me.)

My head filled up with dreams to fulfill
In this city that seemed too big,
In a place full of all sorts of new stuff I needed,
In a world in which I now wanted to stay.

I couldn’t take away her look of loneliness,
Of having spent her entire existence,
Since birth, as an isolated creature,
And knowing that her loneliness
Was a natural law.

(Sometimes my body freezes abruptly,
As if a black cloud has descended upon me
To suck out every breath and consume me.
I’m thrown into the water at the edge of a whirlpool.
All the people I care about are swept away
Alongside the debris from the broken shipwrecked hull.
Then I hear my next door neighbor whisper,
“Let us disappear, please.”)

I never got used to the fear
That threatened to overwhelm me
Whenever I got a glimpse
Of the words written on her back.

That sentence would surface and resurface
In the corners of my neighbor’s sight.
Whenever I could read them in her vacant gaze,
She would stare at me,
Or right through me,
As if asking,
“Why are we still this lonely?”

The only way for me to cope was with words,
Or by pretending that I didn’t notice
How she disappeared further inside herself.
To fill that void within her,
We tried to live normal, boring lives,
Drifting along without any particular goal,
Just like our neighbors did.

(If I drown now, it won’t be for long.
The world will stop spinning,
It will stop and it will go dark
Like the ocean does at night
When everything becomes still and silent,
Nothing moving except the surface ripples
Of waves from far away.)

The world around us slowly moved on,
And I can’t describe what went on inside my head.
Maybe I was trying to hold onto a solid ledge,
And everything of which I could make sense.

The last time I saw her, she walked down the hallway,
And then beyond the entrance of our home.
Her fading footsteps didn’t sound like they belonged
To a young woman anymore.

To find herbs for potion crafting,
I always venture into the woods alone,
And always at night, to avoid detection
By the many who wish humanity ill

Among fern trees with moss-encrusted trunks,
The forest has so many hidden paths,
And anyone who knows them can disappear at will,
To seek medicinal plants in secret places

I’ve never needed strength, any power of force;
What mattered most was that I was brave enough
To do what others couldn’t do,
Or wouldn’t dare try

The night has long since turned black and grey,
With only starlight peeking through the trees
My footsteps leave behind the tracks I made,
But no longer do my steps crunch in the leaves;
Now the only thing making noise
Is a quiet sound that creeps into the air,
A whispering voice from another plane of space

I can smell what wafts off her body;
Her foul stench is seeping into my pores,
Like smoke from burning coal
That chokes out all the air around her

I hold my breath and lie down between bushes,
Where my body becomes the brush and weeds;
My hands are trembling uncontrollably now,
As I wait for her evil presence to fade away
Into oblivion, like smoke from burnt paper

The witch appears before my weary gaze
In all her twisted majesty and grace;
I’ve been discovered by the queen of rot,
Who glides upon a bed of crimson moss

I have felt this malevolent presence before,
A creature from a dark and dreadful past,
When a couple of daring experiments
Pried open the fabric of time and space:
She had been waiting for me down there,
Or for anyone who would enter her domain

I stare back at the darkness of her pupils,
Which shine with madness and malice untold
Then comes a flash of light as time resumes
From a split that seemed eternal before

The witch’s fluid form flows from tree to tree,
While she spreads forth tendrils from her frame
Her rotting limbs grow in length and number,
They burst outward into countless tentacles,
Each tearing off her outermost hide,
Leaving her flesh exposed like a dead snake’s,
To pull everything that they sense toward her core

I turn away in horror, unable to watch
I feel my heart racing, as my head begins spinning
My eyes grow wet, a lump raises to my throat
I know the witch has come to collect on what I owe

The leaves of the bushes are falling to the ground,
All around me there is death
As if someone had poured salt on the earth

Soon I feel the witch’s pull on the strands of time,
Trapping every living being under her spell;
Each second becomes one frozen in amber,
So nobody can run away from that which waits
In a void filled only with nothingness and hate

My heart beats wildly,
My lungs begin gasping in the dried air,
Then my eyes meet her dark red ones;
I am not immune to that malevolent stare,
As she glares into my mind and steals my will

A brilliant beam shoots out of the witch’s eyes,
Through the bushes I was hiding in
I use the same energy crackling through me
To fire back a bolt from my hands
That lances my enemy’s heart,
But it doesn’t even faze her:
She flows to the side and behind a tree,
Leaving behind a smoky trail

I run home as fast as my legs can carry me
And lock myself inside my bedroom
I want away from that terrible presence,
But I can’t shake her from my brain:
No matter how hard I try, her malice lingers on;
Even after closing my eyes,
She’s staring into them still

I take refuge within a bottle of liquid potion
To keep the witch’s rot from spreading,
Until I can figure out a brew
That could remove her curse,
But I’ll need some new herbs if I am to brew
Such a powerful magical concoction

I’ve never been a normal human,
But the witch’s essence can corrupt anyone,
Turning them into tormentors of mankind,
So my only hope of escaping
This vile presence
Is through alchemy

The ingredients for the brew are hard to find;
It will take a lot of time and preparation
To extract enough components
From the rare flora found in the nearby forest,
But I already feel the fever setting in:
I’m going to burn out, soon the effects
Will consume my very soul, if not my mind

It is well known, by people all around,
That once the poison takes hold of your veins,
You can never leave its grip again
Your body becomes restless, your bones creak,
And you start to feel an unquenchable thirst,
A ravenous hunger that can’t be sated,
Because all that your insides crave is the rot

The girl that you were is now no more
You’re becoming a creature
That has no right to walk among mankind;
You will become one that will bring
Instead of life and joy, chaos and death

I need to return to being myself,
Back to a person who deserves
To breathe the fresh, clean air,
Who lives and loves for the common good

I have to hurry and gather
All the ingredients I need
For a potion potent and strong;
Without them the poison’s effects can spread
Into every corner of humanity

But how do I get my hands on these
Strange plants, that grow nowhere near
My hometown, deep in the woodlands?
There must be something else
That can be used as a catalyst,
Something I might have seen
On one of my trips out into
The night-shrouded forest

I wake up on the forest floor
With no knowledge of how I have come here
Little by little I begin to remember:
I was searching for the rare ingredients
That would take me ages to find,
So I could slow down the poison in my blood,
But the witch’s venomous touch has spread
Deep into my brain, poisoning me;
Every thought I’ve ever held
Now feels tainted with a tinge of evil,
And everything I was before seems like an act,
The performance a marionette would play

All that remains is the witch,
A shadow that floats over me;
She haunts my every waking thought
As my body aches and burns

As the corruption slowly overtakes my senses,
All the things that made me happy,
Or made me laugh out loud,
Suddenly don’t mean anything to me;
All that remains of what made my life worth living
Are just a series of meaningless memories:
Like the first day I saw a flower bloom,
Or the day when my brother came over
And helped me plant my own tree in our garden
Before he disappeared into thin air,
Because he went out hunting
And never returned

In a small hut with smoke curling above,
On a moonlit winter night when snowflakes fell
From an icy sky, in my mother’s lap,
There were two faces that were dear to me,
Two smiling, kind faces which would say “We know,”
If someone tried asking them to understand

I can still move, I can think clearly,
But my hands are no longer my own:
They belong to another entity
Who desires the world’s destruction and pain,
And she wants me as her willing slave
To turn the whole human race
Into creatures of the night
That crave bloodshed and decay

I can hear the whispers in my head:
She says she is the queen,
The mistress of darkness,
Of chaos, despair and ruin;
All that lives has no choice
But to bow to her will
And do her biddings,
Or be consumed

The voices in my mind pray to this evil queen:
“Please destroy this town and all it contains,
Make them suffer until their end”
Then she laughs and tells me:
“Your suffering shall continue to increase,
For the town I wish you to destroy
Is the only thing keeping you alive”

I scream in rage and anguish:
“No more!”
I refuse to submit to the witch’s wicked plot;
I’ll fight back and rid myself of her curse at last,
Then I’ll burn away all the poisons inside my heart

Everything starts going black around me,
A darkness seeping through from all directions;
The witch’s voice speaks into my brain,
Making the sounds echo in an endless loop:

“I am a servant of Chaos,
The mistress of darkness,
The keeper of pain and decay
You must serve me or you’ll die”

My cries echo in empty air; I’m trapped
Between a monster of the dark and me;
I am the creature that was once myself,
But it has become nothing more than a beast

As I lose myself into the shadows,
A darkness deeper and darker grows;
All that I can see now is her evil,
My eyes see all things as they really were:
The world appears dark, twisted,
Strange, surreal, and ugly
All of the living beings I come across
Are grotesque, unnatural, and vile

My body feels like fire,
My mind screams in terror
As I trudge my way back to town
So I can hide among my kin

If only I could be strong and resist,
Then my parents and brother,
Who cared so deeply about me,
Would still live on in my heart,
As precious as stone, forever

If my soul is fated to burn away,
At least I want to tell of my transformation,
To show the world what evil lurks within,
But the bright faces that used to welcome me,
That greeted me every time I walked into the city,
Look at me as if I am a stranger;
I can tell that they smell my rottenness,
That from now on I will only spread decay,
And they can’t stand being near such filth;
They won’t be fooled by my pretty smile any longer,
For my mind is corrupted beyond salvation

The girl who I was has been destroyed,
She has burned and rotted like an ancient log;
Her remains have turned the entire forest black,
And all that is left of me is my rotten core

I feel like an imposter:
My essence has transformed and grown stronger,
And so have her dark powers
Which are much too great to oppose,
So I have to turn myself away
From my past self

My old friends accept me into their homes,
But they make the mistake of touching my skin:
My corruption spreads through their pores
Until they change as well, into beings like myself

Their minds and bodies twist
Into beasts with insatiable appetites,
But my body doesn’t burn as brightly as theirs:
I have the ability to control my new instincts,
So as long as I stay away from these fiends,
I won’t lose control of the poison in me

I must swallow my sorrow,
Bear this suffering;
It is a bittersweet taste,
This poison of rot

Some of the townsfolk manage to flee,
But my newly rotten friends get the rest of them;
The villagers have all gone to the town square,
There are a lot more people there than I thought;
They stand silently in a circle, with their heads down,
And look up when they see that I arrived

The crowd make way, opening a path for me to enter
As my feet carry out the witch’s cruel commands;
My infection now flows through their brains,
And they became a part of me,
And me of them

The world around me
Has turned dark and twisted;
All life now resembles
What it always looked like to the witch:
Rotting logs,
Toxic sludge and poisonous flowers,
Critters covered with scales,
Venomous fish,
Infected creatures that want to devour the world,
And all the life upon it

I am no more than the evil
Who took away the brother that I once knew;
The rot is consuming me,
My body shakes and my mind grows dim
As the last vestiges of reason fade away
In the depths of this corruption that has overcome
The girl whom my brother had always protected;
He said I should never have taken the path
That leads into this dark abyss,
Yet now there’s nowhere else
For him and me to turn
But down the hole
Where all our loved ones
Vanished from our lives

My life becomes a void
Where only emptiness and hate remain:
An eternity without the sun’s rays,
An infinite expanse without a star in sight;
No matter where I run, she is waiting there,
Sitting upon the throne that was once empty

I was once merely the girl from town
That concocted beneficial potions,
Dabbling in dark magic without considering
The havoc that could be wreaked;
Now I’m a rotten creature that no human
Would ever look upon and be pleased to know,
And all I’ve done to reach this point of insanity
Is to carry on with a desperate need to keep living,
When my existence meant nothing
Except as a catalyst for death and misery

The girl that you see before your eyes
May seem perfectly normal, to most of the world:
A sweet-natured maiden
Who is a healer and protector of the land,
An idealized portrait that can’t possibly
Appear as twisted and deformed
As my own visage

Her beauty may be perfect,
But she still hides her true self:
An undead creature
With an unending craving to destroy the light of life,
To suck out all goodness from its victim’s soul;
She’s a harbinger of doom
For any sentient being
Who would come across her touch

All life will end as if it were the final curtain call
For the farce that we have all watched,
And I am just the stagehand standing at attention
In front of a curtain that conceals my mistress’ true face;
A stagehand who will do whatever it takes
To see her role played
As she brings the performance
That She has spent centuries crafting:
The perfect ending to this tragic story
Of our souls being trapped
Within a body made to decay

All that I am now, the witch made manifest
In the form that best suits her purpose; a fiend
Who preys upon the weakest-hearted souls,
That will not even fight, as if they knew
The outcome was certain from the start
As a part of this grand design
That is so clearly laid out,
So beautifully designed
To lead to Her ultimate conclusion

We’re in her domain now,
All of us wretches are her playthings,
And we’re her instruments of torture
That will roam throughout this land

The witch only wants a single thing:
To spread corruption across all creation,
To use my blood, her seed,
To sow evil into every sentient creature
Until her enemies are wiped out, forever;
This world will have been completely purified,
From those whose very presence is distasteful to her

It’s a spiral downward of pain and fear;
There can’t be peace for someone carrying
Such evil within their heart,
There is no way back,
No escape,
Not in life, nor afterlife,
Nothing to save one who’s lost her mind

I cannot escape this destiny of mine,
Our suffering is part of Her grand design;
If that witch is the queen of chaos, so be it
Let the darkness run through my veins

I am no longer afraid;
This is how I must walk forward,
And I won’t turn away;
This isn’t the life that my parents or brother chose,
Or the life that my friends expected from me,
But what I deserve after all these terrible years
That have taken such an awful toll
On my fragile soul

‘The Fellowship of Rot’ by Jon Ureña