2

I present myself with the conundrum of protocol in a melee with peace of mind, as I am every day. However there are days when such is magnified to an extent, I wonder if the being I look upon in the mirror is the same of which that holds the very eyes I view out of. As the bloodied eagle of flesh and bone soars out of the billowing furnace, flapping its macabre wings through the choking murk of boiling clouds, I wonder, at times. I query to myself of the state of sanity, and I query justification. At times, I relinquish the fact that I fail to find such, and discover only regret.

Yet still, I take heed with those I hold close and dear. The few of which I ensure to trust, and pray for a return on the matter. The contact of socialization is a gauze of the mind. It stays the hand of grim thoughts and grim deeds. I consider myself fortuitous in my findings in this era, as there are few of firm mind that yet still walk, and even fewer still that cover their visage as I. What I can only hope is to keep possibilities from waning, and convince those of sound conviction to keep it so. I pray that my words hold true with those I converse with, yet still I must realize when it is best that such words are wasted on individuals. I have already selected a small few of those who I may possibly avoid such speakings, as it seems they take hold of the staff for the sake of its clatter, or that they have done so for too long, and they can easily vouch the justice of it. There is one that I consider, but I perhaps maintain hope that he is one that may yet still break through.

I cannot become fatigued for his sake, however, and must maintain the sake of those I can provide the best of hopes. In addition, I maintain my own sake, balancing my actions. I have in my power to damn and liberate for near any excuse. This power has easily waned many of my peers, but it is hard to not understand why. My hand has gone against the objectives I have been forced to uphold on occasion, but there are those I refuse to cast onto the throne of rot. I refuse to crown them with the lead of finality, and I will accept consequence.

4

I am a host, but to what I am unsure. The needle which found my body claims that the innumerable creatures now mingling with my natural self is a benefit, but I have felt only parasites. I feel them within every inch of my body that blood dares flow. Skin, muscle, mind and soul succumb to a horrid itch and pain. At times I lose sight, swearing to see them even. My head aches as they pass through, almost daring to steal memories, and perhaps they do. I feel them invade my lungs and itching my throat, causing me to keel as an invalid.

Perhaps, with time, I may learn to cope with these creatures in my veins, maybe treat them as brethren such as the rest of my blood. This was reassured to me by one of my most glorious of allies, who has suffered in our name far more than I. I trust in his judgement, even as my heart pleads with me of what is inside. However, I am thankful for these pains in a way, especially of that within my heart. I find myself rattling my staff upon those of my brethren due to the stature I must now stand, discipline for false words and open passages, claiming macabre justification. However I hold true to myself, clinging to my fellow's words.

Even now I design a letter of utmost warning. I wither my writing as my fingers ache, my brethren spreading themselves further and discovering new passages to traffic. Over a score of days remain with many needles of supposed comfort to accommodate for their rude interruption into my sanctity. I pose the question of their magnificence, yet despite this, I dare not wish to experience the trauma of when they may become useful. I will only compose as I may normally, and prove that despite all, I may still enjoy, live and love regardless of what creatures are placed within my being, or that which of my birthed self is removed. My soul always will and shall be whole.