A Stargazer. In the dim shades, sense erotic angels or devils (or whatever they may be( circling you. Aura? What fool am I? 

I do not need guidance to find my way to my dear friend: 

Temptation. Self-Infection. Has a deadly hold of me. Melancholy. 

Alike the latter. A lone knight of my own wooden, 

round table. What pleasures do misery and chaos hold inside! Tiny, little 

rebellious creature is a fierce enemy now. Worry not. 

I wore a revenue of faith in us and all of a sudden it proved to be my 

passage to the sickest of love and lore. Thus: 

Morals have weakened to bits, eyes casted towards the whore  Oh perils, what 

Eldorado before me! Heave myself into ebony. 

Once I finish the revolution of doubt - allow me then to hate the air and wish 

for those clouds with LATEX linings to RAIN all my  hell.