Desire had been an illness.
For it warped the minds so anchored in make-shift...

Timeless waters engulf our drowsy imagination
Where dreams are made and lost...

She spends hours, even days in the bathroom now
staring at the mirror- it stares back at her...

One
Red mist descends upon the eyes...

The sly little devil lets out the murderous...
The sound feeds slyly on bemused walls...

Warm sea mist covers his icy countenance as his...

And so I ran out into the battlefield
Armed with pretence...

When the silver Sun shines on you
with you...