
The room is foggy and the lights are dim,
And we brood about our darkest desires and eccentric whims,
Whom we lust and whom we love share in between a thin line,
Who I want but who, really, is mine,
The one we love, the only one,
Is not in our fate and the light is gone,
From our eyes and our soul is sundered,
But a mask we keep and the pain is under,
For us and only us...

