My mistress's heart is that of a hollow word, to the plethora of society her words cause lassitude within their souls. Her being so quiet and serene, but her being does not speak. Tendency to revolt against her strong rhapsodic manifestation of true purity demanded only by those birthed of nebulous darkness. Only those of this insufferable birth can hear her melodious screams of what some call truth. Her words create a world dismissed by the masses as a mere manifestation of hate and all its creatures, embodied into a penumbra of beauteous bones. Potential unseen by the ethereal world, makes the bloody births cry tears of regret. For a true purity is lost to the world, for it is not the purity that is lost tis the world that is lost in its own puddle of delusional promises of utopia. Now she dwells with the hopes that the quiescent of the their home, the graves will mask the ignorance of the tainted and she can live in her epitome of purity. Until she is disturbed by those who are not truly dead. Then and only then will the last purity die and my mistress was born.