The world calls my Passion
'human',
but my God, how It rages
whether you give yourself over to It or not;

sooner or later

It begins to twist; It mutates
and its true form is revealed
- oh It is much more inhuman,
and oh, how much more severely the world is mistaken -
than anyone could have
imagined.

Passion, It bares its fangs through its hellish
ear-to-ear grin, saliva dripping off its teeth in the most
hypnotic, animalistic fashion.

Those who place themselves in between its very jaws
(and they are Most),
caring only that this demon of theirs
has enough to eat, a full belly:
an appeased appetite(monstrous as it is)

they are left to starve,
a decaying image.