The path my love follows fills a desolate heart with unrelenting guilt and moral decay, yet not regret.
Scenes replay in my mind like a marionette's lugubrious spectacle. I'm wholly consumed by the enslaving out pour of emotion that my lungs gasp for a zephyr of your scent.
My conscience is be-gnawed by shame and malfeasance, afflicted with such griefs that cause physical agony.
Heartrendingly, I deliberate the ingestion of arsenic to burn my veins clean and rid this impurity. Oh Ophelia. I've purloined Romeo from his beloved Juliet... and yet I look back on the day as if it was an unmistakably libidinous quandary....
How could he want me, entangled with mental and physical punctures, when such a queen is sitting gracefully on her sumptuous and ethereal throne? I tear at the merciless and perpetual echoes that consume my evanescent soul... my flaws mark your absence and are left for him to heal with the affection you never provided.
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