Jewels drip red and I don't sound proud. Treason is ambition I want dead procession. All we got unholy left-overs of a compromise. Leaving us like butterflies trapped in frost.
You need your stars, even killers have prestige. Access to a living you will not see. 24-hour boredom, I'm convicted instantly. Gorgeous poverty of created needs.
Beauty finds refuge in herself. Lovers wrapped inside each others lies. Beauty is such a terrible thing. She is suffering yet more than death. . She is suffering.