Dimera

With just a flick of the opal banded finger 
I will throw you into a 
concentric mental decline. 
I control your elation, 
I control your depression. 
I take as 
I wish memory, clothed in a raiment noir. 
(I take you 
under my black wing.) 
I take you under my dark wing and nurture you in hate 
to dwell forever in a Maison Blanche. 
Purity through corruption, who am 
I to blame when your basest instincts are realized?