Dimera

With just a flick of the opal banded finger

I will throw you into a concentric mental decline.

I control your elation,

I control your depression.

I take as

I wish memory, clothed in a raiment noir. (I take you under my black wing.)

I take you under my dark wing and nurture you in hate to dwell forever in a

Maison Blanche.

Purity through corruption, who am

I to blame when your basest instincts are realized?