Thou true beguiling nature has cast a dark umbra over my uncertain judgement;
To love or not to love;
To trust or not to trust;
To know or not to know;
To be or not to be;
Thou hath given me reason to doubt your true intentions before;
Am I to be played as a fool yet again? Or should I believe that you actually might feel something for me?
Will thou glance at me when I'm not looking, and put aside all harlot duties to respect my presence;
I hardly think so;
I hysterically ridicule myself because I know I'm not good enough for the likes of thou and those deviant fiends you call your friends;
Or am I too good? They've all said that I was far out of your depths, but I hardly thought so...
Should I bring myself to trust you, harlot?
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