Beyond all doubt my mind was sick...
Perhaps it was a stroke of fate…
My pride was touched to the quick
Of late…
But tell me, why do we try luck,
Although all seemed to be well?…
Indeed are our desires, oh fuck,
From hell???
Don't seek for play with hellish fire!
I have a matter for your ear –
We soon believe what we desire,
My dear!…
April-May 2002
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