Vice child driven mad with devotion. White velvet blood thickens under the moon. Writing at night is like writing in the dark, you leave your hand to God and pray for him to dig his fingernails into the depths of you mind.
Of course, you're a sinner in white, so he's not going to do a damn thing. He'll leave you there to contemplate yourself, maddening confusion written out on every tattooed limb. God does not exists for you to simply hang inside your comfort zone and cruise. He's going throw you and your pearls into the game, and make you work for anything worth writing about.