• The frost of my heart is an overkill. The joy of that must be stopped. The tenderness of your touch makes me quiver. The doubtfullness of your love is uninspiring to the soul I carry. Night is the time where I breath in deep and I can believe in the finest of things. But when the sun comes up, there is the void, entrapping my soul, and making it hard to even think. I now know this is my mission, my mission to conquer. To conquer this weakness, I must conquer the lust to feel the void. My struggles are my greatest foe.