Many moons have passed since last we laid eyes. Too many times has the sun lightened the sky and harboured my demise; tell me of those wicked times; lie to me through the darkest night.
Come now, my sweet, take me to Oblivion again. I wish to return home, my soul bellows for home; it must be done!
Have you changed mind or was it altered by another, I wonder. I've wondered, alas I have wondered. To the sandy shores of happenstance, take me. From the greenest grass littered with violet orbs, take me. We see, you and I, we see what could be through falsehoods and begotten hope.
Come now, my sweet, drink from the chalice and free your heart from the shackles of naught.
Yes.
We are true, you and I.
We are free, you and I.
We are pure, you and I.
The candle beckons home a truth unspoken, unheard, and untrue. For that is the idea of you. What am I? Lost in a land that is not my own. Forgotten to the remembered, safely forgotten and discarded. Blissfully aware of the sword at my chest, the beating heart driving steel deeper each moment.
Come now, my sweet, just for a moment. Take me to Oblivion again, take us to the dreaded realm and grow grey with me.
No.
We are blind, you and I.
We are deaf, you and I.
We are mute, you and I.
Perhaps we will know when the shadow falls closed.
Go now, my sweet, and leave me in Oblivion. I will stay with a box of sand, ever grinding grains between my teeth. Hopeful, ever hopeful, that this might be the end. Now I can lay my head one last time, with the sand at my ear, once more in Oblivion again.