Indulge in the darkness of mortal sin. For while we are finite, mere products of Time's fatality, the defiance of soft, gentle quietus is yet within our grasp; through lacerating the hearts of those that care, through satiation into licentious or hedonistic pleasures; through enticement, betrayal, manipulation and the ravaging prowess of scorn, we can yet control the intangibilities of our mortality. To be lost to quiet requiems is to accept an inability to transcend decay; to force the lamentation of others is to be untouchable. Sin is rich, glorifying and paves the way to a bleak, eternal damnation; to be reverred is to be infamed, to be cherished is to be worshipped; to be immortal is to be burned into the soul of men such that they have not the will to defy through consignation to history. His pain flickers on - the sinner lives still.