I began deloused in the madhouse,
robbed of intellect, to reticent emotions.

And if the heart ruled, maybe, I could be contented.
but when the mind ruled, and was lost, I was ruled by loss.

Perhaps, it could not afford anymore a valiant effort,
as trying to call back the memory of sanity.

There was need, there was want, and still ,
despite the apex of these two tentacles of the soul,
I could not reach my goal.

I dabble in matters of the heart with the mind,
I dabble in matters of the mind with the heart,
and remain to exonerate the infamous twilight.

The direction I go, could be mine,
might be mine, but either way, I go,
the temptation therein, is another direction,
but without end, well, without end.

"Death,
and one of us hopes to transcend it by defining it,
while the other seeks to forget about it" Logos blurted out [Of Eros].