Incessantly a restive devil frets
And chafes my flesh,
impalpable as air;
I swallow and he fills my burning breast
With subtle and insatiable desire.
Knowing my love of Art he often takes
Provocative,
erotic female forms,
Or uses some sophisticated trick
To push his poisons till I succumb.
And in this wise he leadeth me,
half-dead,
All out of breath, f
ar from the sight of God,
In a great waste land of inanition,
Then mocks my startled eyes with open wounds,
Rotting rags, to symbolize misfortune,
And all the bloody instruments of Ruin.
TL;DR
user is a fgt