With slow, certain grace, embrace
That divine, ever-darkening daze
Brought upon by broken inhibition
Imbibing the liquor that floats
In breeze black and brisk
Empty, as the vast beyond,
Slumber, beyond dawn.
I must once again seek forgiveness for my tardiness. Once again, life has rallied me to its battlefields, and once again I have had to fight for crown and country, or whatever remains of it. The reader will, I hope, overlook this transgression, and put meaningless faith in my meaningless promises once again, but perhaps this time, I shall hold true. I pray for it tonight.
Dark-willed, in two moons, this shrine will be better made, with amenities I cannot give time to abhi. I intend to build many things, beyond just words and praise. I am unsure if I will equal my fantasies, but I am sure I will try.
Meanwhile, reader, I urge you to put faith in the dark of night. It shall reward and reaffirm thy faith. Go in honour.
Signed by the Second Priest, upon this moonless night of April, at 0228.
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