Ugh. The same dream again.
I held my head in my hands before scrambling to to grab a cube-like object from the bedside desk. Scratching another line to the numerous etchings that marked it's surface.
72... 73... 86... 103... 207... 284... 284 years have gone and passed. When will this end? I thought as I clenched the cube.
Faint spaces of dawn's light passed through the open windows illuminating the dark room. Pieces of ink-stain crumpled paper and stationery littered the room.
I'm a mess.
I really can't. Help me.
Whoever you are, you who come to me ephemerally.
Help.
I can't go on... It's been too long.
—
merciful, fragmented, oh dearest autumn moon.
the promised star; beloved by life and by love.
this flower has wilted long before it bloomed;
And the garden too, will be gone before long.
Was I, Iathelena, the same?
the falsehoods were real,
all iniquities were real;
but most painfully,
our love was real too.
no matter which is which,
i hope that in the end; you will always still be you.
you will forevermore be yourself.
never fallaciate on such.
afterall, you've reached me.
so please.
if only... i can see you smile again.
Farewell, To you, my dear Æne.