Selfishly I write, a sycophant for the smoke and smolder. The hope I have is a simple one. When age unravels the gifts of my blessed mind, to this end, I pray to relive al the despair, loss, and love as if it had never happened at all. By means of ink on parchment, the people- the ones naught to be forgotten- will live in hallowed vestige. The vile, for pity's sake; the virtuous, for others to herald; the friends, who should endure in chronicle; loved ones, who held the only strings that ever mattered; and above all, her.
Gods her.
Herein, lies the course taken as I want it told.
**Criticism and critiques welcome, I have to write this book to get it out of my head and put the pressure on myself to make regular updates if there is intrigue.**