So teasingly vague,
I flaunt the essence of me-
All pretty in pain,
Fate's poet emissary.
And the girl lacking reason,
The one you don't see,
Of shame, lust, despise, of
Innocence lost, she resides
In this hollow frame
Of what may never be,
Thinking torture is romantic.
I'm disturbed, it's so funny.
I know it must be.