That Night

It was full moon, 

Hiding behind it's dark cloud. 

It was too soon, 

For the beetles to cry loud. 

It was lunatic, 

To not feel her cold finger;

Trying to mimic, 

Every act of a strangler. 

May it was lame, 

For me to give her the opportunity

Or it's out of shame, 

For her to use my fragility. 

But whatever it maybe, 

There is loveless sex for me

And a tedious being for her.