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?