No more neglected satisfaction.
No more defeated temptation.
Only solitude glory of a kind mans creations.
Reverse mankind and behold he will stand, with all our beligerence in his unholy hands.
He has no god, no religion born into.
He has theories of his own, which he follows shoes or no shoes.
Planets recycle, the life spectrum a circle.
Born lived and died again, sending none to no such heaven nor hell.
What is practicle, and unethical, makes reality tolerable.
Spectaular he sees eyes like his, fainted colors blindly holding up.
Through with his spectrum, recyling his plans, the woman of desired lust, completes his inner man.