The smell of your strings in my fingers,
the touch of your polished frets,
the sound of your voice in my ears,
your vibrations that take my breath.
Your distorted sound of anarchy,
tearing through the air;
Your girlish screams of ecstasy,
as I caress your steely hair.
As you lay in my arms and surrender,
feed off my demented bliss;
Like a woman arched in blasphemous pose
hungry for my kiss.
Your sweet moans of pleasure,
reverberate through these walls;
Echos of your screaming orgasms
keep me alive in the fall.
I lie on my bed tonight
and dream of our love for hours;
I miss you my lady Beth,
my Black Demon Guitar
By: Viraj Belgaonkar