To look into the mirror is to see the future, in blood and rubies.
...and he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her, little by little by little.
And it's a cold place the world, especially when warmed by arsen.
Small steps to the madhouse still get us there at last
Yet who can say how our souls have been stamped by witnessing such a cruel drama? All souls are hostages to their human envelopes, but souls must decay and suffer at such indignity, don't you agree?
There were more ways to live than the ones given by one's superiors