Can't Say It Often Enough — Change

Ills Are Many, Blessings Few, But Dreams Tonight Will Shelter You.

Losing Faith Is A Complicated Business And Takes Time. There Are No Epiphanies, No "moments Of Truth." It Takes Much Thought And Concentration In The Later Phases, Which Thenselves Come About Through An Accumulation Of Small Accidents: Examples Of General Injustice, Misfortune Falling Upon The Godly, Prayers Of One's Own Unanswered.

But A Few Choosing To Venture Deeper Into The Painful Corridors Of Their Affliction, Found After A While That They Could Now Grind And Polish Ever More Exotic Surfaces, Hyperboloidial And Even Stranger, Eventually Including What We Must Term ‘imaginary’ Shapes (which Some Preferred To Term Invisible).

But On The Way Home Tonight, You Wish You'd Picked Him Up, Held Him A Bit. Just Held Him, Very Close To Your Heart, His Cheek By The Hollow Of Your Shoulder, Full Of Sleep. As It It Were You Who Could, Somehow, Save Him. For The Moment Not Caring Who You're Supposed To Be Registered As. For The Moment, Anyway, No Longer Who The Caesars Say You Are.

A Weapon Based On Time . . ." Mused Viktor Mulciber. "well, Why Not? The One Force No One Knows How To Defeat, Resist, Or Reverse. It Kills All Forms Of Life Sooner Or Later. With A Time-weapon You Could Become The Most Feared Person In History." "i'd Rather Be Loved," Said Root. Mulciber Shrugged. "you're Young.