From him, to me

adam,

a chord was struck in the heart of the world and the harmonies which sprang from that divine chamber radiated invisibly out into the aether.
suddenly there were birds.
suddenly there were conflicts.
suddenly there were colors.
suddenly there was.

yet there had always been and it is this supernatural irony which finds no tangible expression, no outlet save for the soul of life.
it`s in the flapping of a bird`s wings.
it`s in the duality of an argument .
it`s in the multitude of the wavelengths.
it`s in the.

in the infinite variety of ways there are many methods to harmonizing life and death and all their permutations.
it takes the form of a bird`s flight path.
it takes the form of a violent stalemate.
it takes the form of solar wind.
it takes the form.

imagine the form of soil trodden by eight hooves and two horses bearing an elf and a wizard, together, back into the heart of the world.
together they see birds jumping bisecting the air about them.
together they see disputes between travelers turn bloody.
together they see every texture and hue that ever graced their brains.
together they see.


evan