4:4. Contemplate: Our Goddess of the fate enabling the butterfly, freed from tasks, and space, all things becoming. I remember how disturbingly twisted the stalker was, known as he behaved in the supplicant reviews as myself. Both ways this turns, but the path, but the path. A ladder stood whereby one lived as naturally crooked.
4:5. Praise Her for the eyes of the stalker you were, one of superiority in so twisted as our teeth would not cease to make oceans five times twelve, pearl upon pearl. Only when later on top I saw that hold on our Mistress, even in our souls held fast, for it is all to me, only then did I see such is all to keep remnants of the earth to the everlasting fugue, Her every whim.
I love her because she is,
I love Her because She is become.