The hand feeds, hungry eyes eat, who's in your little black book?

To what depths will one go? How deep is the need? I am the sky,

the sands of fate mixed between the subtle wind that blows to

the east, and tides that flows fast and far to the sun's beginning

And ending, only to roll back to where ocean breaks to waves.

Are we real? Do we feel? Can I stop the need? Can I see beyond the

division of light and darkness? In the shadows of night, desire is filled

By the waiting cup of lust's will...

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