Some might say that I am losing my touch, the old feel of this tomes of mine. But it isn’t so at all my dear readers. There is but one reason for it, and it is seasonal, so as to speak. I shall not seek to elaborate further. The energy has to be rechanneled elsewhere where it is needed most, and this place can certainly survive without it for a while.
It has a mind of its own, its pulsing heart beating regularly beneath the exoskeleton. It is, by its own glory, a living entity, to which only I am entitled to scribe to. Mind you, tis not a privilege, but in the sense that one can only scribe, leaving one’s prints in the immortal entity’s mind, hoping, just hoping that it will make an impact. Where and when, it is of no concerned. Like the butterfly effect. Yes, like that.
Taliesen, I can sense that you are near. Why would you not appear before thy servant? But, I am still thankful for my abilities coming back to me. I can slowly feel it, instead of it ebbing out with the moontide, it has reversed. I’ll make an attempt soon.
To Taliesen, this is my offering. And to my Beloved Lady as well.
Shouts of joy echoed across
The dusty old square
–A monolithic structure of
Crumbling pillars and
Gothic sculptures yet
No less breathtaking