Her words were thought of often. During times of stress, they returned to memory encouraging and comforting in their sing-songness. What music she made as the hint of promise found itself whispered in the ear like a heart-pricking spear!
At times of work or play, lustiness and bawdiness cavorted with the humdrum of day-to-day creating something far more interesting and far-reaching. Her fragrance rested full in my nostrils like the smell of the greasepaint. Under such circumstances...could Lord Arthur Saville not find himself guilty of his crime?
The scales of justice found us bound by the shackling of her retinue. In body and soul, I serve the time. Why did I not prevent myself of the deed for want of fear? To innocence end I bid adieu. Litany, cacophony and jealousy unbound. I slew the griffin lest he come to possess her.
Friend gallows now calls my name...await! On the matter of passion and crime, one drives the other and causes us to seek it's other. 'Tis undone!
