The entrance to the seven gates
is bounced by biology.
It’s an after-hours place,
you can’t cum when your light’s still burning.

The dj calls the dancer,
Ianna to the stage.
She enters like she’s Juliet
entering the page.
Keeper of a power
she doesn’t know is frail.
In the face of cruelty
beauty always fails.
The maddened crowd attacks her.
Ripping off her costume.
Taking all her jewelry.
Everything but her perfume.
Still not close to satisfied,
they begin to chant “descent.”
Ianna is mortified
as they start clawing at her skin.

The song becomes a droning lull.
The chant becomes the law.
Every hand reaching out for her
midway becomes a claw.
Ianna’s dancing at the seven gates,
becoming spectacle.
Everyone cum down to look
at her body hanging from the wall.