I'm on fire. The orange, blue molten glass raising and flickering around me is tangible. my muscles are fitting, flailing wildly, just for an alternative to the docile state I'm holding so very, very, steady.

The aroma in the room is overewelming.

I want to fuck.

I want to be a rabid animal, a demon surging into the angelic masses.

i'll be the hunter to these beasts.

i want to destroy each one, crucify them on myself and whisper the terrible hidden truth behind their predicament as their final succumbing breath aides their cognitive state to the realization that its the best they'll ever have. Why now, cruel mercy, to show unto me the undeniable beauty in this agony? The opitimising splender in this moment of frenzied calculation?

The finale, a cresendo of self gratifacation, mouth pressed to hers, inhailing with the force of a thundred thusand ocenanic storms, her bodys finising move mine for the taking.

The euphoria of the moment passes as quickly as the apex itself, a vail uncontrolably lifted and stolen by the sea breeze. Like a dream further lost the more dedication given to recalling it, the empty futility of the scene standing before me rapidly takes its toll.

The flames at my side, reared to hellish phosphpros white in the godless chaos that stoped for nothing, are calmed once more, licking as flags idoly hampered in the wind.

Woe to those who'll next catch my ravenous eye