*a bowl of warm blood with a straw appears of tobias* how is that?
*then polgara looks over at jimi* ten thousand pounds of coffee what it *that ten thousand pounds of coffee appears in front of jimi* is that ok?
What eternal hand of eye, what limitless imagination, could concieve the pangs of immortal life? An eternity of broken dreams. A place where once I died. what divine-concieved design, could match a mortal life? A wry and rapt mortality. A life played out in sounds, of weeping, screaming sighs. Is this when the night comes down? The Shadow in us all, that ebbs and flows with ignorance...