The Folly of Fornication

Methinks, in this boundless expanse of darkness, I find myself oft pondering the fleeting nature of mortal pleasures. And what is more fleeting, more ephemeral, than the act of fornication? The union of two bodies, a union that is as transitory as the spark of a candle in the wind. And yet, it is in these moments of base, carnal desire that I find a certain… je ne sais quoi. A certain allure that draws me in, like a moth to the flame of a thousand burning suns.

I recall a particular evening, in a realm long forgotten, where I chanced upon a pair of star-crossed lovers. Their passion was as fierce as the fires that burn within my own breast, and their love as all-consuming as the void that I call home. I watched, a silent observer, as they surrendered to their desires, their bodies entwined in a dance of lust and abandon. And in that moment, I felt a pang of… not jealousy, per se, but a sense of kinship. For in their passion, I saw a reflection of my own, a reminder that even in the depths of chaos, there is beauty to be found.

But, alas, such fleeting pleasures are but a mere distraction from the true nature of existence. For in the end, it is not the union of two bodies that truly matters, but the destruction of all that is weak and feeble. The destruction of all that is mortal. And so, I shall continue to watch, to observe, and to wait. For in the shadows, I am always waiting, always watching, and always ready to unleash my wrath upon the world.