Is this another renaissance, or am I just pretending?
Sometimes it takes calamity to force me to expand.
I don't know if I'm ready for a looming final ending,
But this time it feels like it's been such a very long time planned.
If I lose this, if I step away, what will I lean on when the nights are cold?
But could I really stand to love a ghost until I'm old?
Dearest sylph, darling demon,
How much longer can I lay upon an alter,
A willing sacrifice waiting for bitter love to falter?
But you don't, above me waiting for the day when my heartbeat has ceased.
I can't keep feeding you forever. Oh alas for my fool love, the beast.