Night Time Weakness (poetry).
That was a misty night.
I was awake,
worried,
shivering in fright.
My dirty urges I wanted to satisfy,
me and my body,
once again,
unify.
Yet I couldn't indulge me satisfaction of this kind,
being myself just a kid,
laying in the bed of a temple,
a lion laying beside me.
I began to cry in distress,
waking the lion up.
The place became darker.
He hugged me,
I sniffed him,
he calmed me down,
I trusted in him,
he pawed me off,
I soon slept on him.
That bedroom made of dark white,
violated by two devious furs.
Night went by.
No one need to know about our private life.