Mine is the way of Rain on gravestones,
of ashes drifting on the wind,
Of lighteningstruck oaks, and forbidden feasts on starless nights.

Mine is the way of the sun curser,
of the star thief,
of one without a shadow, a memory, a place to call mine.

Mine is the way of the enraptured,
of the madly joyful
Of the endless laughter of visceral pleasure.

Mine is the way of black rose petals and red wine,
of hot kisses on cold skin,
of mercurial lust, and trembling ecstasy.

Mine is the way to your heart.



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