• That snarling gnat, that corpse of a figure playing its xylophone all throughout the midnight hours; a crafty cat, sly with a lie always on hand, it never stops that endless song of the midnight hours. I see the way it lies, playing its fiddle in the daytime hours to fool the general populace just to throw down that fiddle for the horrific xylophone, that clanging music, that never ceasing screeching of wood against metal, I loath it all. Living in the basement of the dreaded gnat, that feline cat of the devil’s own keeping, scratching the doors and window panes as though it owned the building, but no! This staggering gnat, that festering feline, shall have naught from me but the harsh brutality of the human imagination. Gathering together the putrefaction pieces of my broken essence, my collapsed psyche, which grovels upon the ground as an earthworm through the opaque dirt, I shall uncover that which was lost when I was a child, the child’s innocence. As I awaken from this dreamless hell, this never ending embodiment of heaven, I find myself stricken with a covet for that cat, gnarling at my face with a head full of lust. I elongated my suffering, touching that gnat, as she skillfully eloped her body with mine till we were naught two but one in a single form only befitting of the Devil’s Plaything. For in the morrow, we thought as one as we slipped further from sanity and deeper into inanity, we shall depart to the yonder world of this Devil’s Pit and storm rightfully into another. However, as the morrow washed us down, neither of we did depart and with each night anew, we did devour each other’s substances and bask in the aptitude for excitement from the other.