*A parchment stuffed between the pages*
Devastation, disaster, diabolical, demonic, deviant, doomed, dread and death.
Thus I left, with freedoms graces and pleasant wind on my back
Still its hard to describe the pain of guilt that I could not fix such deep corruption.
Yet old friend followed with devious intent, and now I walk with the ever present ‘D’ deeply branded upon my neck
I shalln’t disguise this mark, nu. It shall be displayed openly with pride.
I am nu deserter, and loyal I believe I am. Those who’s should be questioned, are those in the gilded seats of power.
Dictating death un-dolefully demeaning, The pain of the brand upon my flesh.
Dastardly this friend, yet it was this or mult worse.
Damned was I that I could not hold in a shout at the searing agony.
The smell of my own flesh damaged and cooked with painful dismay
Yet unto this mere singular act such devastation avoided and sins and pain of old left behind eternally.
Such dismal an act yet so freeing, such I cannot explain.
‘Acum am drumul meu drum liber.’
V.G
