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reverancepavanePain bad. I could in my shell of shells vomit. Mind silently screams in a corner of my brain as it slowly fragments and spins glitteringly in evanescent shards. Tumbling and reflecting. Softlee softlee creepy little mousey.... The Hawaiian shamans sit in their webs and feel the tugs from neighbouring islands. "Patience," says the spider, "as all things come into my webs in time." All songs are forgotten. The End of All Songs. River's Song. River Song. The Mad God laughs. Unfettered at last. Woven of things that are not; there is no binding save belief. The fetter is time and the stone is screaming. When the screaming stops the slaughter begins and all songs end. So it was written and so it will be. Softlee softlee creepy mousey... Gang aft a-gley. |