A casual high-wordedness in Sinai:
Balmer: The Machiavelli's soul is I, staring into your fragile truth
Mortitia: Ah! So you challenge me to blurt word hymns.
Balmer: The word is desire ,is humane, is life.
Mortitia: Life is but a corn field. Quite corny with cheese.
Balmer: Where is the pleasure if i see no pain, where is the life if i see not beauty of death and where am I if my people don't follow the trail of my experiences.
Mortitia: Be alone, be a parasite, suck misery suck life,feed on living souls. Only then will the futility bear fruits.
Balmer: Let every moment be the fruit of a past mistake, but i shall keep repeating them with passion.
Mortitia: Ha! So human! To fall with passion and err with joy.
Balmer: My greatness is in folly and grins and grunts. Your weakness is the other edge of the sword.
Mortitia: I wade in darkness with the sword of desire, the edge of the sword, the glinting pain in others' pleasure.
Balmer: Sword coated with sweet pain pierces every heart, but in the end, the pain lingers.
Mortitia: Pain lingers, pain bonds,intersecting spectrum's refracting pain,all find a common shade
Balmer: Wisdom i despise. I seek wisdom of my identity. Let the facet of my being shine a ray straight into the realms of insanity.
Mortitia: Wise self proclaimed,gloating in self adoration,your world though miserable never bears misanthropes.
Balmer: Two things float into my awareness... how cruel is knowledge and what power doth it possess.
Who are you?
Mortitia: Ignorance,the haven of whom you refute existence.
Balmer: Silence is a mechanical perfection. I revere imperfections and live to die another day.
Mortitia: Then blessed be you. Enjoy this stay on lush grass of plenitude and plethora.
Balmer: The most unknown is my carnal truth but one day i shall speak it in your ears.
Mortitia: Oh! so leave as all others do, a tale ever debated,of who stays when all must go.
Balmer: And so it comes a full circle, another lesson re-learned. there is passion on the journey upwards. There is universe at the top. There is satisfaction on the way back. A daily hike.
Mortitia: I will wait till the rain comes crashing down on your face,with fuller circles beneath your feet , till my whispers drown in the abundance of your stormy soliloquies and then i shall perish but with a twinkle in the eye.
Balmer: Maybe its just the falling that does the trick. Maybe we are both frogs seeing our world in others just the way it was.
Mortitia: No i dare not fall in the same life, painful brandishing its boredom to me, give me love ,hate,fury and wrath but encapsulated in cases new.
Balmer: On other thoughts... Palms are soggy.
Mortitia: No this life lies in the trench of your palms.
Balmer: Fisting shall be my pleasure.
Mortitia: Of your grand eloquent yet intriguing words i know not, of what i read is my own mind ,blank and submissive to every niche of it.
Balmer: If ye understand the articulations of thy own mind, i shall bow down to you in discipline
Mortitia: i demand not thine slavery, neither a tame beast i desire, of what i crave is the poison of youth and the fetters of the same youthful love...