With a force like the tide, driven by moon
Helpless, a wave, drawn I am to you.

And the strength of this is close to obscene.
Vibration higher, fuller, wider than Vastar's sky and
Bigger than Phaestus' mountain, more complex than Agatheis' elementals.

Deeper than Lorielan's truths and more pure than the righteousness of
Pentharian,
Wilder than Eris' eyes and sweeter than the peace of Oneiros.
And the strenth of this, it is as close to obscene
As the bloodlust of Aegis and the dark pit called Sartan's soul...

Holy ground, treading little mortal foot, obscene.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Scarlatan, in the year 307 AF.