Please, dear one, though you tremble under my fingers, have faith.
My mind is caught between past and future. Split in two.
There is a rift between us.
There is division within.
My heart and mind are separated by a void.
It is time dear one, can you feel the love in my uncertain hands.
I must perform this surgery, though I know not how I shall.
My sweat is sickly sweet and I am icy cold.
Come close, then closer still and do not fear the knife I hold.
For I am one who wields the knife.
I am one who watches.
I am one whose head is severed, freeing truth so it may fill the void as endless night.
I am sacred eternal.
I am that which cannot be destroyed.
So do not be afraid.
I am that.
