Cast vain passions aside, remember who you are, vain salutations no longer pleasure this aching soul for satisfaction lies writhing, dying and gasping at the foot of your bed. You are a harlot, you are a Jezebel, irreplaceable yet intolerable, clawing and crying, wailing for release.

Love stands cloven and slanderous upon the stage of life, shot once more in the outer darkness, the desolation of Sheol, the cold of purgatory, bound like Prometheus, a slave to lust and desire. A man bound by desire, drawn by fate to inevitable death and decay of two souls destined to be cleaved apart by death, sorrow and the chocking miasma of regret.