What a moster craves
is a simple sentiment.
It doesn't ask to be
no longer segregated,
for he will always be
Its wishes rise up,
to pale,
enchanted heavens,
to the strange creatures
gliming on the dark sky.
It lusts to hold his
beloved one,
for it is the
supreme punishment
for such a fiend not to know
the warmth of his half
onto his skin,
to feel his spirited soul
rejuvenating him...
that's a monster's greatest longing...
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