Lust. It seems that all the world's a lust. "Oh, if it were not a mortal sin, to make one's Love a God and worship it." Woe to you, Giovanni. For the body is lost, but the soul even more so. It shudders in its own imortality. For its weekness would last forever. Does it not, as it wanders, to and fro along this God forsaken place? Perhaps.