Where does my heart lay?
In a troubled past?
In a bright future?
What is life but a withering rose,
A rose long dead from the salt of tears,
A rose lost in the tumult of emotions,
Do you remember it's scent?
I then beseech you, love,
Keep it close,
That memory,
For with it you can achieve miracles.


For the woman who gives me hope, laughter, and love,

Kaem Savann

Penned by my hand on the 17th of Letum, in the year 628 AD.