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By the Word I Wind the Gears
Gaze up to behold a crystal sky, girded and bound by Seht's bright bands. Look down to behold the black stone of His will, and His imagination made clay. Drink His truth, thick as blood, from the broad black rivers. Feel His breath on your skin - let its dreamy redolence fill your nostrils and sting your eyes. You stand at the center of the wheel. The home of the Mainspring Ever-Wound.

Obsidian towers stretch ever skyward, festooned with polished brass and godly filigrees. Great turbines drive memory through a thousand thousand pipes that stretch out like tangled veins, or the golden roots of an ageless tree. And wandering amidst the humming and hissing paradise are His second-children. The Fabri'siraynosim.

Paws's Album: Yeah

DESCRIPTION : Something something Dark Side. Something something complete.


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