Through billowing mist and thickening fog comes a deadly reminder of the past. Fearsome indeed is this beast, wrought from distilled suffering and the souls of the damned. For it is but a reminder of a happier time; one in which wooden parrots gamboled cheerfully, and where demons could sip cocktails with impunity.
Out of the womb of the tomb, born of the seed of the grave:
Lovely with shadows of loves that are only not wholly forgotten,
Only not wholly suppressed by the dark as a wreck by the wave,
An orientationless beast who sheds some small light,
to pave the way for a future more bright?
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