Le bel avec la grande puissance... (The Beautiful One With Great Power...)

He would be the sweetest taste of sin if sin had a flavour.
The more I get, it is the more I want, the more I need.
I just can't stop,
Don't want to escape,
This yearning within, the longing in my soul,
Bears no boundaries, yet needs to be filled,
So that I may be whole.
I become a leaf on the wind,
Watch how I soar.
My hands steadily moving through the breeze,
Like two graceful oak oars.
You will be the death of me,
Of that I am sure
But stiil yet, I have no control.
My body has amind of its own and keeps begging for more..

(To be continued)