Passion and death, wrapped up in one. Love, and then the hatred. The blade into the skin, the blood, and the passion. Without the death.
And is it really an anchor for me, a shelter against insanity, or a sail so that I might drift out amongst the sea of madness?
Is this passion real, are these emotions real, or an echo of mortality. Is it all a manipulation of the world around me?
I might never know.
I don't think I want to know.
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