White benches, torque wrenches
And a little love from me.
See my soul or kill it using existential creeds.
They did,
They used magic to gain what their fate had sealed
Twisted and crushed and gained eternal fields.
Flaming fiery feuds boiling deep within my soul.
Attractive and repulsive electrons sparking it to gold.
"I am the alchemist,
Behold
led-based souls that turn to gold which I, too had foretold"
Love is not as basic as the colours of the night.
Love is warm, not quick to frighten, it mentally delights.
Feelings are strong, so is love the infinite ration.
Connections, attractions from persons of compassion.