The enchantment of a chase through the damp forests of Celtic mysticism is a treacherous yet beautiful feature of uncertain anticipation.
Just like the bustle of the contemporary metropolis, with her predictable and hypnotic flow of trans-national capitalism, we are caught within the web of paradoxical liberty.
Thank you for igniting my torch, as I travel across spiritual plateaus where the elements reveal the spirits of the dance.
My torch has brought comfort to those stallions who lead me beyond Hungarian kingdoms where Vlad Dracul continues to reign.
Hastening into the Societas Draconistarum, the wheels of my carriage have lodged themselves into the stoney and tragic tracks of seductive ******.
Please do not forget me.