The ice king awaits in his frozen vestibule.
No staff to tend; no knights to protect him.
In months, he cried and cried; no one cared.
There his sadness eternal at his floating kingdom.

Prologue: The Devil and the Nymphet

There she ran to the moon lighted alleyway.
Her heart beat fast, blood pressure hyperventilated.
She might be a runaway from somewhere else.
This nymphet seemed to be lost in thoughts.
There by the lamp post stood a coffee shop.
Inside, a silhouette sitting figure awaits.
Every sip dictated the nearing of the nymph.

Suddenly, the door's chimes sang like their head's insanity.
A lost soul meeting a devil of liberty!

There are butterflies in my stomach;
Scorpion's sting on my chest;
thunder rolling on my lips;
fireflies to light up my life.

Rainy seasons are not always the best seasons.
Some use the rain for their crops;
Some use the rain to induce their sleep;
Some use the rain to hide their tears.

The smell of raindrops is like perfume.
Droplets bounce each and every passersby's umbrella,
mimicking the rhythm of their pulses.
It feels as if time is slowing down.

Is it sunrays? Or is it just decaying moonlight?
Are those stars? Or is it just dying light?
Is it love? Or was it just lust?
Are you 'you'? Or just somebody I knew?

Hundred people walked beside me
with different faces, different scents.
Every step is a manifestation
of dripping sweat from burnt calories!