How could I even speak of love. My dear, before I held ye. In the arms of mine?. . In thy beloved arms. I'll drown myself to rest. And upon your ivory skin.
And now, my son. Open thine eyes wide to behold. On yer crusade. Thou have become infidel thyself. . In the times of my youth. The spirit spoke to me.
In these times, passion hath become. More than any spirit, haunted or divine. Flesh hath become the image. And our lust as the sacrament of it all. . To feel lust for, for her innocence.