At best, it slips away through your fingers like a fine sand. 
Impossible to grasp.
It blows away on a breeze, never to be seen or felt again.

Loss cannot be explained. Only felt.

Life itself has relinquished it's luster, 

the gleam is gone from 
garnets and gemstones all.
I cultivate stones and dust within my heart,

And a forbidding silence without.

Of bridges burned and friendships failed I am a wealthy man at last.

What is this now?
What is left of me? 

Just a bitter taste of ashes,

...and a Fool's Eulogy.


  1. King... Victor, are you alright?

  2. even in death there is no escape for me. the grave is no bar to his call. i do not want this knowledge any longer. i do not want to do this any longer. i do not want her anyl

    i am fine

  3. Well, shit.

    If this means your not going to be whatever you were, then who will? I have a feeling you need a replacement. That's usually the kind of thing that happens next.

    I know jack-shit about you, and you may or may have not done some horrible things, but I think you genuinely tried to help me when you could. And I thank you for that.

  4. You aren't leaving, are you? Did someone die? Did something not work in your plan?

  5. You don't want her anylonger? The sacrifice that you were following?

    But you summoned Him. I don't think you can reasonably go back after the summoning.