I fear not the needs of a weary heart driven into the confines of internal confession, Nor will I concede to the articles of conformity by making undue concessions.
I see! the demands put forth by such rich and giving blue eyes eager to strip me of all free will. Yet no words from the silent lips promising the nectar to be spilled.
What waste will remain of me reduced to a beggar lost in a desire I can not hide, what tragedy awaits me beside my discarded pride Damned! by forbidden fruits I will not cast aside, I choose to drown in your tide.