O, Lord! Teach me how to sit still and not sniff after the mere traces of his whereabout, and not to lick my bone-dry ragged lips, and not to clench my lower cusp, and not to form pretty sins up there in the master of my mind!

O, Lord! Thus why would you waste a breath of living to him when you couldn't make that face belong to me? Why would you test me with this pulsing longing and grinding pain? I feel like my heart has its own thought, and it kept dismaying mine!

O, Lord! Never blame me if I resort to spinnin' juice and tabletop strips now cause the test you've given me are bigger than what my shoulders could bear. I wasn't born, wasn't built to admire from afar, I would bite my fingers off if I wasn't allowed to touch him!

O, Lord! I'm threatening you to give me him! I have no idea why would you show him off like that and not serve him on silver platter for me except to taunt my greed—and I'm the sickening greed they pray to get away for. Unfortunately for him, I'm the greed he attracted.

Unfortunately to him, I wasn't the pretty damsel promised from the feet of heaven waiting with her thighs closed. Unfortunately for him, I'd grow fucking talons if I had to take him from you.

O, Lord! Why'd you make me a horny dog? Now you dangled a fresh meat upon me and expect me to not lash back? O, Lord! Your sense of humour amused me. Now give me that pretty boy for I'm fed up with your waiting game.