Masculum

It is not foolish that which opines the senses towards the enchantress. And finds the opal-blue sullen waters of a world so beneath our own. It is but a thirst, beginning before time and lasting beyond time infinite, that we crave her breasts and her embrace. For fathoms of failures and fallen giants has she taken account. There is no lesson here to move and change our primal passions but it's our destiny and doom we pay in lifetimes for a sliver of her for mere seconds. And from hell in our cells alone and dying from her wrath, we plead for more of her poison.