On some days and nights there's never-ending remote storms and a lake of lies. Golden chains about me, mouth sewn shut, a rising globe of black waters, open war and the fragrant, fertile green lily that dot the banks and the dew of sleep cocooned in red ivy.
Do you have any idea what it's like for me? An ungrateful mind, the countless, uncreated nights, a Heaven and Hell on Earth, my wild abyss, to grow darker at hostility and scorn, malice, this whole world I hate. It's reflective, I don't care about frozen Alps or orchids or horses, being imprisoned in invisible arms, the sickening evening twilight turning a sober gray, the yellow dust on the petals, the entire world, among the faithless, faithful only she.