a stargazer. in the dim shades, sense erotic angels or devils (or whatever they may be( circling you. aura? what fool am i?
i do not need guidance to find my way to my dear friend:
temptation. self-infection. has a deadly hold of me. melancholy.
alike the latter. a lone knight of my own wooden,
round table. what pleasures do misery and chaos hold inside! tiny, little
rebellious creature is a fierce enemy now. worry not.
i wore a revenue of faith in us and all of a sudden it proved to be my
passage to the sickest of love and lore. thus:
morals have weakened to bits, eyes casted towards the whore oh perils, what
eldorado before me! heave myself into ebony.
once i finish the revolution of doubt - allow me then to hate the air and wish
for those clouds with latex linings to rain all my hell. |