The Morning StarGod among the dormantking of divine falsehoodthe stench of sinyour skin of lies thoughts from a mind of wretch with a soul of plaguemaster of the cults of a circle with serpents from Eden to raptureyou watch as a ravenas a manas a beastbring your tempest of disasterking of the sulfurous voidyour whim be donethe Morning Star
Queen TsukiyomiA cold winter nightthe crystal clear tears set upon the glasswinds rattle the mindslike trees during the stormthe moon without stars is aloneit is a singular mindlose stars strike you of jealousy you ring a unheard tuneso far away you admire from aboveor do you admire from below?a mistress of mysteryyou control the seas with your shadows and sizehigh tide not even Poseidon can controlyou are the clear master of nightnone master your authority on these hoursstars flock to your sidea celebrity of the skiesTsukiyomi you are named the phases of your mind of perplexitywinter, autumn,summer,spring.each season
For The MuseI wait for the time being as a white parchment soon the black sight I have will become an infinite huelights play in my head as if I where a canvas being stroked by the essence of artgoddess of creativity, the musetake me awayto the meadows of mediumsthe imprisoned mind I have hereit must be awoken by you. only you!give me color, give me the sight of the renascence!a new era of the manallow me to be that very form!but I wait. you admire from farsitting at the easel, I twiddle my penwaiting for your lean against me in this mourninga state when I feel as the mannequin to the puppeteerFor now I will remaindangling
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