Poetry

Instincts no longer control me,
fright can no longer be caressed.
 
Drink the water I deserve,
desert this garden of mine.
 
Turn my nocturnal into diurnal
and blind me with your belief,
 
-that one time entirety will vary
and I will be who I was fated to be.
 
From this immorality, isolate I
for my powers have perished by. 
 
-Nr.