mystline
 
 
A corpse, should be left well alone. Oh, I know very well how the secrets beckon so sweetly. Only an honest death will cure you now. Liberate you from your wild curiosity.
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Ahh, Kos, or some say Kosm... Do you hear our prayers? As you once did for the vacuous Rom, Grant us eyes, grant us eyes. Plant eyes on our brains, to cleanse our beastly idiocy. The grand lake of mud, hidden now, from sight. The cosmos, of course! Let us sit about, and speak feverishly. Chatting into the wee hours of... New ideas, of the higher plane!
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