The Red Door
There in the midst of a spellbinding storm, the legendary Red Door approaches.
To gaze upon its markings… to touch upon its surface… it is as if to feel the trepidation of dubiety swell up in the easternmost corner of my eyes.
From deep within the heart of your derma hails the almighty fragrance; for fragments of crystallized uncertainty commence to fall as the Red Door's scent makes known to one and all that my sense of self-mastery has only been but and unfortunate allusion.
For a very long time I have taken pride in my ability to exhibit domination over my weaknesses. But now, as the Red Door overwhelms the night with its intoxicating fumes, it becomes difficult to lean on the crutch of logic, thus, the very essence of my strength being crippled by the sweet scent of your skin.
Defeated I lay in perennial agony and enslaved to Venus's loving touch…
And even now, as the glacier winds blow the ashes of sanity towards the darkest corner of my mind, I find myself wanting to succumb; overpowered by the need to walk through the threshold of pain, for only with in its violent fury will I be able to finally embrace a calming peace.