al tuo servizio eterno , sono leale .
Pale eyes are all that is seen from beneath porcelain mask ; pale body glistening as sweat drops from your brow , hidden behind silk and paint. A dancer at an underground club . You look like sex , gaze ever predatory and delicate hands so eager to please . That's the picture you paint after hours once you get to your second job . An incubus through and through . The day sees another side , one of piercings and tarot readings , underhanded deals paying for meals and housing , running from a fate you pray stays buried . Though ; bound by a deal that strips you of being able to feed on aroused energy . Alas, tethered to the members of a family by an ancestor they can't even bother remembering . Oh but you remember , little demon . You'll never forget the face of the one who condemned you to serve until the very last member of his lineage dies out, your blood too precious , a singer for those tempted to drink , an ever filling chalice of lust and life . Snuffed like a flame .
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