Each time I write I swear within myself that it shall be the last.
And I always find that it is -
for every time a portion of me dies -
a new is reborne of the ashes within the candle flame.
The phoenix brings a new life and a new blessing to this adventure -
this calling of the darkness within.
Yet why are some afraid?
These demons would not be so placid if angels shall not seek the same haven.
And dreams - what shall be made of these?
Was ever a more glorious cause than the achievement of such desires?
What shall we know in the end,
all has happened already.
