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.